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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857569">>MISSION: pending</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_awkward221/pseuds/dr_awkward221'>dr_awkward221</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Feelings, Kuroo is a good bro, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, akaashi is an android, but one is an idiot and the other thinks he can't feel emotions, i honestly don't have an explanation for it, just because, like a lot of 'em, side iwaoi and kuroken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:00:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_awkward221/pseuds/dr_awkward221</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi Keiji opens his eyes on the 5th of December. He knows he isn't human, and he knows that to find out the reason of his existence he has to wait for instructions. Finding himself having to blend in in a university campus, his plan is to lay low and avoid being noticed until the moment his mission will finally be disclosed. His flatmate, however, maybe the most human person to ever have lived, one Bokuto Koutarou, may turn out to be a significant hindrance to this plan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome to my first ever Haikyuu fic! I just recently got invested in it so i apologize for everything lol I just really like bokuaka and I read like everything I could find and then I started writing and after other two lame attempts at random oneshots I found myself really invested in this au for no apparent reason! Like I can't even remember how I got the idea! That's fun,,, anyway, accept this humble offering of mine and I hope you enjoy it!</p><p>PS: everytime you encounter a string of binary code that's when the pov switches!<br/>PPS: I actually know close to nothing about coding, if there's some coder out there who's reading this... I'm sorry aksjhaskj</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi Keiji blinked into existence on the 5th of December. He sat up from the table he found himself on, and looked around the room. There was a woman standing to his left, wearing a white lab coat, and a large frame on the wall to his right. Through the frame he could see a boy, staring back at him. His shoulders were set rigidly straight, bony and pale, he had black messy hair and sharp hooded eyes, staring with intent. </p><p>Akaashi realized that, despite being barely a minute old, he knew some things he logically shouldn’t:</p>
<ol>
<li>he knew the boy staring back at him from the frame was called Akaashi Keiji, and he was his own reflection in a mirror;</li>
<li>he knew it was the fifth day of december, which meant it was supposed to be cold outside. </li>
<li>he knew how to form words in his head, how to name the objects in the room, how to recognize the age of the doctor standing next to him (around 40) and of himself in the mirror (around 20);</li>
<li>he knew that he was just born, and that these informations were coded into the program that was running in the back of his head;</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>“Welcome,” the doctor asked, handing him a tightly wrapped plastic bag. </p><p> </p><p>     5. he knew he wasn’t human, not like the woman standing next to him, who was holding out a bag for him to take, was. </p><p> </p><p>He took the bag, thanking her. He was surprised to feel the softness of it under his fingers. </p><p>“There’s some clothes in there,” the doctor explained, “I’ll leave you to change, you can meet me outside when you’re done.” She walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her. </p><p>Akaashi Keiji stood up. He glanced at the mirror again.</p><p>     6. he knew it was a one way mirror and there were people behind it, looking at him; </p><p>     7. he didn’t care.</p><p>Emotions weren’t coded in his programming. The string of 0s and 1s that was running in the back of his head didn’t leave room for embarrassment. He turned away from the mirror anyway. He didn’t care about the people watching, but he didn’t want to look at himself more than necessary. </p><p>He efficiently changed into the white shirt and black pants that were provided inside the bag, only allowing himself a second to run his fingers against the soft material of the first. </p><p>     8. he could feel things with the tip of his fingers, feel the smoothness of the thread, feel the pressure when he touched his arm, feel the coolness of his own skin.</p><p>He didn’t spare even a glance at the mirror on his way out. </p><p>The doctor was waiting just outside the door, like she said she would, leaning against the wall of the corridor, a folder open in her arms and a pen balancing unsteadily on her fingers. </p><p>“Akaashi! Ready?” she asked, raising her head from the folder as soon as he opened the door. She was smiling kindly, as if to put him at ease. It was unnecessary, of course, and she must have known this, but Akaashi thought that maybe she was doing it for herself more than for him. To put <em> herself </em>at ease. He didn’t comment on it, simply electing on following her down the corridor. </p><p>“We enrolled you at the local University, so you can—”</p><p>“I know,” he interrupted her. “It’s in my programming.”</p><p>“Right,” she said, bending her head awkwardly. “So you know you mustn’t tell anyone about you being an android, right?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>     9. creating, associating with, or hiding an android was illegal.</p><p>“Okay, just wanted to make sure.” She opened a door at the end of the corridor and let him through. “What else do you know?” she asked, moving in the room they had just entered towards a metal closet pushed up against a wall. </p><p>Akaashi moved towards the window, looking out at the overcast sky, at the cold grey light of the winter in the outside world. “I know I have to wait for instructions.” There was a line, at the very bottom of his code, that read “&gt; <em> MISSION: pending </em>”. He had tried to rerun the command a couple of times already, in the background of his system, but it hadn’t changed the result.  </p><p>“That’s right,” the doctor said, pulling a khaki colored duffel bag out of the closet and reaching his side by the window. “You just have to wait. Easy peasy.”</p><p>Questioning orders wasn’t a feature in his coding, so he nodded. </p><p>She reached out the bag for him to take. “Here, we got you a change of clothes and some… personal belongings. Toothbrush, and things like that. And,” she pulled a keyring from her pocket and handed this to him too. “Housing. We weren’t able to secure you a single in the dorms, unfortunately. This late in the year there was only a spare room in a student flat. So, you’ll have a flatmate. It won’t be that bad, you’ll just have to be… a little more careful about not getting found out, but you’ll be fine.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure of it.”</p><p>He nodded and took the keys as well as the bag. “Thank you, Yuriko-san.” </p><p>She smiled, and looked almost proud. “C’mon,” she said, “I’ll take you home.” </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Coats were not very useful when you couldn’t feel cold anywhere except your fingers. He wished he had gloves instead. But he also knew it was winter, and he couldn’t go around in only a shirt. People would have noticed. The less he stood out, the better. </p><p>The doctor was driving the car that was taking him from the lab to his new home. She was talking about nothing in particular, and Akaashi had stopped listening to her as soon as he had realized this. He didn’t find meaning in what was called small talk, and preferred giving his undivided attention to the world rushing past the passenger side window of the car. </p><p>He almost wished they could go on forever, so that he could see the whole world from that window, but the trip was barely long enough for him to get a glimpse of the city they were in, of its tall building, and imposingly bright advertisement screens, and packed pavements, and loud people, and louder cars. </p><p>He was glad the university he was to attend was in a quieter part of the city, since he had found it all slightly overwhelming to process just from passing through. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to navigate such chaos daily.</p><p>The neighborhood they found themselves in now was quiet. There were green spaces in between buildings, which were scarcer and lower, and long winding roads, connected with little staircases and alleyways. </p><p>The doctor showed him the main university building, then drove past it, down a couple of blocks, and stopped the car in the first available spot she found. </p><p>“Here we are,” she said, a sigh escaping her lips even if she clearly hadn’t meant for it to. </p><p>Akaashi turned from the window back to her, waiting for instructions. </p><p>"Ah, I almost forgot." She opened the drawer in front of Akaashi's seat and pulled out a phone. She handed it to him. "Phone. You have a couple of contacts from the lab in there. If anything, and I mean <em> anything </em>, out of the ordinary happens, you let us know and we'll get you out.”</p><p>He put the phone away in the pocket of his coat without a word. </p><p>“The house is that one,” the doctor added, pointing a finger at an apartment block on Akaashi’s side of the road. “Fourth floor. Flat number 45.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Go on,” she nodded slightly with her head, urging him to get out of the car.</p><p>“Thank you, Yuriko-san,” he said, and opened the door. </p><p>He was already out with the bag slung over his shoulder, about to close the door, when she jutted a hand out and stopped him, “Akaashi.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I just… good luck.”</p><p>He stared at her, not really sure what she was wishing him good luck for. </p><p>“With everything,” she added, apparently realizing he hadn’t understood what she meant. Not that those words had made it clearer. </p><p>He just bowed his head slightly and closed the door. The car drove away before he could even reach the other side of the road. </p><p>He looked up at the building, not that there was much to look at. It was boringly simple, dirty white bare walls all around. </p><p>He went up the four storeys quickly. Not feeling fatigue definitely had its perks. </p><p>He roamed the landing, looking for the number 45. It ended up being the third door on the right side of the stairs, and it was wide open. He had had the key ready in hand, but he lowered it slowly while looking at the opening. </p><p>“Hello?” he called out, taking a step inside the small entryway. </p><p>“One second!” came a voice from somewhere inside the apartment. It was seven seconds, though, until a figure appeared in front of him. “Oh shoot, did I leave the door open again?”</p><p>“Seems like you did,” Akaashi answered, observing closely as the other boy moved around him to go close it. He laughed, then scratched his head, messing up slightly his already messy hair, which was black with (probably) dyed white tips. Then a pair of round golden eyes settled on his face, and Akaashi had no choice but to lower his gaze from the guy’s weird hair to his eyes. </p><p>“You must be my new flatmate,” he observed, putting a finger to his chin in thought. </p><p>“I am,” Akaashi said, then introduced himself. </p><p>“Ah-kashi! Nice to meet you! I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”</p><p>“It’s Akaashi,” he corrected, then added, “Nice to meet you as well, Bokuto-san.” He bowed slightly, and when he rose again, Bokuto was staring at him with raised eyebrows, though Akaashi couldn’t tell the reason why. </p><p>“I’ll show you your room, c’mon!” He started to walk into the flat, but stopped right away in front of the door he had come out of. He stood in front of it with his arms wide open, blocking the entrance. “Don’t look in the kitchen, I was trying to cook something for you as a welcome gift but I’m really not good at this kind of stuff so I made a mess.” </p><p>Akaashi stepped past it, eyes trained in front of him to avoid looking inside the room. </p><p>“You actually didn’t look, wow!” Bokuto commented, walking in front of him again with two long strides. </p><p>“You told me not to.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, but…” he looked like he was expecting Akaashi to say something else, though he didn’t know what. He shook his head and didn’t add anything else. “Here, this is your room. The blinds are busted, but I put a blanket up there just in case you prefer to sleep in total darkness, you know? I didn’t know, maybe you like to wake up with the sun, in that case just tell me and I’ll take it down.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” he said, stepping into the darkened room and dropping his bag on the bed. “Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem, dude. Is that… is that all you have?”</p><p>“For now,” Akaashi answered, and Bokuto seemed to accept it as an answer, cause he nodded to himself. They walked back out of the room and Bokuto started to lead him on a tour of the flat. It wasn’t big, the entryway opened directly into a small living space with a desk near the only window and a battered couch in front of an old television. </p><p>There was one bathroom where there was barely enough place to stand between the sink and the toilet, with a small square shower in the far corner. </p><p>Bokuto’s room was the same as his own – one bed, one wardrobe, bedside table and desk – except that, where the other room had been cold and empty, this one was extremely messy and with all sorts of things stuck to the walls: posters, pictures, fairy lights and even a white jersey with black sleeves and the number 4 emblazoned in its middle. </p><p>The kitchen looked like a tornado had just passed through, and apparently now Bokuto already didn’t care anymore about him seeing the mess he had made. Akaashi offered help in tidying up, but Bokuto ushered him out and told him to go settle down. </p><p>He was about to go back into his room to sort through the few things in his bag, when Bokuto called out to him again. “Hey, since you moved in so late in the year there won’t be any tours of the campus scheduled for freshmen like there are in spring, so I was thinking I could take you around, if you want! Give you a personal tour of the campus too! Show you the best cafes and the less busy study halls! And the gym! We have a cool gym. Do you play any sports?”</p><p>“No, I don’t.”</p><p>“Oh,” his shoulders drooped down a little, but he was quick to perk up again, “I play volleyball, you know! I’m bound to make it to the V league someday!”</p><p>“That’s amazing, you must be good.”</p><p>“I am!” he grinned wide, eyes crinkles and chest jutted out proudly. “You have to come see me, sometime!”</p><p>“Sure,” he answered. </p><p>“Alright!” Bokuto clapped his hands. “Go settle and I’ll see you in a bit for dinner! You’ll be shook with how good my cooking is.”</p><p>Akaashi doubted the truthfulness of the statement, judging only by the state of the kitchen, but didn’t comment on it. He nodded slightly and closed the door to his room behind him. </p><p>He turned on the light, and went to sit down by the bed, taking the bag in his lap to inspect. It didn’t take him long to get everything out, and then he started to think what he could do before dinner. That’s when his system sent up a warning. He couldn’t understand why it had taken him so long to process the information, maybe it was because Bokuto talked so much and so loudly and with so much <em> emotion </em> in every word, that it made it hard for him to run a lot of processes in the background. But still. He sat there, looking with void eyes at the warning. He couldn’t eat dinner with Bokuto because he <em> couldn’t eat </em>. He wasn’t human, he didn’t have a stomach. His throat ended in his speech processor unit. If he ate something there would be nowhere for the food to go, not to mention that it would probably damage the unit. </p><p>He had to find an excuse for missing dinner. And he couldn’t stop thinking about <em>how</em> <em>had he missed it.</em> It was important information. It should have been at the forefront of his processor right the second he had heard the word <em>dinner </em>being uttered. And yet it hadn’t. Had he been too distracted by Bokuto to properly process it? In any case, it wasn’t a good sign. Something red started blinking on and off in the bottom right corner of his vision. He put it in focus and read “low battery”, followed by an ominous 20%. Had his system overheated in processing the fact that he hadn’t processed an information? That would be the only explanation for the sudden drop in the battery percentage. Well, at least now he had an excuse to miss dinner, since he had to shut down to recharge overnight. Still, not a good sign. At all. </p><p>He got up again and walked out of the room to tell his flatmate that he was going to sleep because he was too tired from the trip, hoping with all his mechanical heart pumping refrigerating liquid through his joints that he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. </p><p>In any case, big deal or not,  </p><p>     10. Bokuto Koutarou was going to be a problem.</p><p>~ ~  </p><p>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </p><p>~ ~</p><p>“Dude, I have a serious problem.” Bokuto dropped on the floor next to his friend Kuroo with as little grace as he could, managing to hit the other boy square in the face in the process. </p><p>Kuroo slapped his shoulder back in revenge, then settled back in his stretching position and put on a seraphic smile, “Tell me all about it, I’m here to help.” Sarcasm was flowing out of his mouth like water out of a colander. </p><p>Bokuto fought the urge to hit him again, deciding instead to get a head start on the stretching before practice. He slung a leg over the other, hooking an arm around his bent knee and turning his back so he was still looking at Kuroo and could talk to him. </p><p>“I think Akaashi hates me,” he confessed, letting all his desperation come through so Kuroo would take him seriously for once, understanding how truly <em> serious </em>the situation was. </p><p>“Uh?” was all the wisdom Kuroo had to offer. </p><p>“I’m <em> serious </em>!” Bokuto exclaimed, raising his hands for emphasis. </p><p>“That’s your new flatmate, right?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Dude, it’s barely been two weeks. Isn’t it a bit too soon to throw heavy words like <em> hate </em> around?” </p><p>“No, I swear he does. First of all, he barely talks to me.”</p><p>“That’s understandable.”</p><p>“NO! We should be best friends by now!”</p><p>“Hey, why are you so excited to replace me?!”</p><p>“I can have <em> two </em>best friends!”</p><p>“Alright, conceded.”</p><p>“Thank you. But my point! He never wants to hang out with me! Like I ask him out to lunch after class and he always says no. But I know for a fact he doesn’t have anything better to do cause he has no other friends, he just moved here, and—”</p><p>“Bo, slow down.”</p><p>Bokuto snapped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clacked together.</p><p>“Don’t pout like that,” Kuroo told him.</p><p>“I’m not pouting,” he replied, pouting harder. </p><p>“Have you ever asked him to, I don’t know, <em> study </em> together? Maybe he doesn’t like to eat with strangers. There are other things you can do to get to know each other <em> beside </em>eating, you know?”</p><p>“Yeah but studying <em> sucks </em>.”</p><p>“Tell him to come see a game, then,” he said, standing up. </p><p>“I already asked him that.”</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Like the first day.”</p><p>“He’s not gonna remember that. Not everyone remembers every single thing that’s said to them ever, you know, so ask him again.” Kuroo extended a hand to help him up, and Bokuto took it. </p><p>“Alright. You think he’ll agree?”</p><p>“I have no clue, but I hope so ‘cause I can’t wait to meet this guy you’re so ardently crushing over.”</p><p>Bokuto’s head snapped to the side so fast his neck cracked. “I’M NOT CRUSHING—!”</p><p>That was the second the coach blew on his whistle to regroup them all to start actual practice. </p><p>Bokuto welcomed the distraction, hoping his face wasn’t too red as he approached the net with wide strides and ignored the sound of Kuroo cackling behind him.</p><p>~ ~ </p><p> 01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </p><p>~ ~</p><p>“SO…” Bokuto was leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, letting it support all his weight and dramatically extending his arms forward. </p><p>Akaashi clenched the mug of coffee he was holding in his right hand tighter, and used all his focus not to raise his gaze from the phone he was holding in the other, only looking at Bokuto through the corner of his eyes. “So?” he asked.</p><p>“We sort of have a match this weekend,” he went on, fingers drumming on the countertop nervously. Why was he nervous? “I was wondering… if maybe, if you want to, eh, no pressure of anything at all… I mean, it’s nothing serious, just a friendly match with—”</p><p>“I’d like to come,” Akaashi interrupted him, finally looking up at him. He didn’t know why Bokuto was being so weird about it, or why it was taking him so much effort to ask him such a simple thing while usually he seemed to say everything that passed trough his head without much thought. </p><p>At the sound of his answer Bokuto had straightened up, eyebrows shooting up in his forehead and eyes growing wide. “Really?”</p><p>“Of course,” he replied. “I’d like to see you play.”</p><p>“Oh.” Bokuto’s face broke into a smile, and he leaned his cheek on the counter. “It’s gonna be good, you’ll see.”</p><p>“I can’t wait.” He looked down at his mug of coffee, which was growing cold in his hand, undrunk. He raised it to his lips and pretended to take a sip, only dipping the tip of his tongue into the dark liquid. He couldn’t taste it, couldn’t feel the warmth coming off of it anywhere but on the fingers that were touching the sides of the mug. He made a face anyway, slightly scrunching up his nose, and turned to wash it down the sink.</p><p>“Grown cold?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi turned again to find him looking at him carefully. </p><p>“Yeah. I got distracted.”</p><p>“By me?” Bokuto smirked, straightening up. </p><p>“You wish,” Akaashi replied, and walked out of the kitchen, not managing to stop a little smile from appearing on his face when he heard the distinctive <em> thunk </em> of a head hitting the hard surface of a counter. </p><p> </p><p>That was new. </p><p> </p><p>He locked himself in the bathroom and looked at the reflection in the mirror. He touched his cheeks, where the artificial muscles had contracted slightly, just enough to produce a small smile. He did it again, and again, marveling at the movement. How had it never occurred to him to do that? He remembered that doctor Yuriko had smiled at him a couple of times, and Bokuto was smiling <em> all the time </em> , so it really should have come sooner than this. The emulation program in his head had been running a bit slow, perhaps. He was programmed to pick up human habits with time, that was one of the reasons his… creators had dropped him off at a university, in the middle of a community made up of people around his apparent age. So he could learn. Not that it had been working very well, as of now. He barely talked to anyone except Bokuto, and he absolutely didn’t want to become as exuberant as him. It looked exhausting. Plus, he didn’t really know <em> why </em> he had to integrate, and even though he couldn’t question orders, he could elect to ignore them a little, if he thought they were nonsensical. He closed his eyes and deleted the line of coding that made him emulate the behaviour of those around him.  </p><p>He didn’t want to emulate Bokuto, anyway. He wanted to be his <em> own </em>version of himself, however that came out. Moreover, it seemed the other boy was teaching him how to be human in other ways. And Akaashi was okay with that, he thought, opening his eyes again and lowering his hands from his cheeks, looking at the shadow of a smile that was still visible on his lips. </p><p>He was extremely okay with that.</p><p> </p><p>That saturday Akaashi found himself sitting on the bleachers of the university gym, witnessing a game of the most crazy sport he’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Not that he had ever seen any other sports. But it was crazy nonetheless. </p><p>And Bokuto was seriously amazing. It was the first time Akaashi actually realized he was built like a tank, all taut muscles and sheer power, as he slammed balls down to the floor on the other side of the net like his life depended on it. And everytime he scored he would turn to look at Akaashi, as if to ask <em> did you see? </em> and, when he saw him clapping, beamed so brightly without fail, and made a cheering noise so loud Akaashi was sure it could be heard all the way across campus to their house. </p><p>Akaashi never wanted to stop watching him.</p><p>But eventually the game ended, with a win for Bokuto’s team, and Akaashi found himself being ushered to the side of the court by a frantically waving Bokuto. “HEY HEY HEY!” he was shouting, arms flailing about as he motioned for him to come down. </p><p>“Hello, Bokuto-san,” he greeted when he was finally in front of him and Bokuto had stopped shouting. </p><p>“AH-KASH! Did you like the game?”</p><p>“I did.” He didn’t know if he could classify the feeling as <em> like, </em> but it had certainly been interesting and entertaining to watch. “Did you?” he asked back.</p><p>“Huh?” Bokuto blinked, head tilting slightly to the side. </p><p>“Did you like playing the game?”</p><p>“No one ever asked me that,” he commented, frowning. “I… Yes! I liked it. I <em> loved </em> it. It’s always so much fun!”</p><p>Akaashi smiled slightly. “That’s good.”</p><p>“Hey, did you see how good I was, though? I told you I was good, right? Did you see? Was I good?”</p><p>“You were amazing.”</p><p>Bokuto’s cheeks were already red from the strain of the game, but they somehow turned even more red after that. He shrugged slightly and waved a hand in front of his face, “I got lucky, ‘t’s all…”</p><p>“Oya oya? Is that the famous Akaashi?” The new voice belonged to a tall guy with a glorious head of black hair half in front of his face. Akaashi remembered having seen him play in Bokuto’s team. He was approaching them with a calm demeanor, and when he arrived he slung an arm over Bokuto’s shoulders in a conspiratory manner. “I’ve heard all about you,” he said, eyes roaming up and down Akaashi as if he was running an in depth analysis of his figure, a sly smile paying on his lips. </p><p>“Yeah yeah. Ah-kash, this is my super annoying best friend, Kuroo. Kuroo, Akaashi.”</p><p>Akaashi bowed, “Nice to meet you.”</p><p>“You too!” Kuroo exclaimed. “Did you finally give in to this idiot’s advances?”</p><p>Bokuto shoved the other boy off him so hard he lost his balance and almost fell to the ground. “Don’t say that!” Bokuto said frantically, eyebrows drawn together in what almost looked like fear. </p><p>“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist. You didn’t tell me he was so cute.”</p><p>“Yes I did!” Bokuto replied, hands on his hips, before realizing what he had just said, and turn white as a sheet, a small “Ah<em> . </em>” escaping his lips, as Kuroo began laughing so hard he started choking on his own saliva. “I didn’t! I mean… Ugh, Kuroo!” Bokuto went on, half complaining and half trying to explain himself. </p><p>“There’s no need to worry, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi offered. “There is no doubt I am indeed objectively attractive.”</p><p>Kuroo started laughing even harder, if possible, and Bokuto started mumbling something intelligible under his breath. </p><p>“Bo,” Kuroo exhaled eventually, when he had calmed out enough to be able to breathe again, draping his long limbs around Bokuto’s shoulders once again. “I like this guy.”</p><p>The bright smile that broke on Bokuto’s face would have been able to power up two whole cities had someone invented a way to harness the energy of smiles into electricity.</p><p>It made Akaashi smile as well. He didn’t know why, couldn’t quite explain what it was about looking at Bokuto that made him want to smile again and again. </p><p>He guessed smiles were contagious.</p><p> ~ ~  </p><p>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </p><p>~ ~</p><p>A while later, in the changing room, Bokuto was banging his head against a locker while Kuroo patted his back sympathetically. </p><p>“If it makes you feel better, I think he might be an alien,” Kuroo commented.</p><p>“He’s a little weird, so what!” Bokuto defended his flatmate. “Doesn’t mean he’s not human, c’mon.”</p><p>“Did somebody say <em> aliens </em>?” came a singsong voice, followed by a head popping out from the showers. “Is an alien here to take me away, at last?”</p><p>“Shut up Oikawa, we have a serious issue here!” Kuroo retorted, shooing the other boy away with a hand. </p><p>“Mean, Kuro-chan! Mean!” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him, then shouted, “Iwa-chan! They’re being mean to me! Defend my honor!”</p><p>“Maybe you just need to shut the fuck up for once,” replied Iwaizumi without moving his eyes  away from his phone, his designed activity while he waited for Oikawa sitting on one of the changing room benches. “And hurry up too, while you’re at it. I’m starving.”</p><p>“Iwa-chan, it takes time to be this beautiful!” Oikawa replied, putting a hand under his chin. </p><p>“If you’re not out of the shower and dressed up in three minutes I’m divorcing you.”</p><p>Oikawa gasped, “You wouldn’t!”</p><p>Iwaizumi didn’t move in the slightest, which meant ‘<em> yes I would’. </em> </p><p>Oikawa disappeared after that, making both Kuroo and Bokuto focus back on the problem at hand. </p><p>“Cheer up, bro,” Kuroo said, giving Bokuto one last pat on the back before picking up his sweater and shrugging it on. “It’s not the end of the world, it’s just a dinner. He probably said no just ‘cause he’s shy, you know?”</p><p>“Shy?” Bokuto said, slumping down to sit on the bench, shoulders drooping. </p><p>“Yeah! Like, it’s understandable, not wanting to go out to dinner with a whole team of loud, beefy, tall, handsome dudes!”</p><p>“Who’re you calling handsome?” Iwaizumi commented from his seat. </p><p>“Me.”</p><p>“Fair,” Iwaizumi conceded. </p><p>“Wow, Iwa-chan!” Kuroo exclaimed. “Are you going to dump your boyfriend for me?”</p><p>“You can dream.” </p><p>Kuroo huffed. And turned back to Bokuto, who was still pouting on the bench. </p><p>“Dude,” Kuroo took Bokuto’s own sweater and handed it to him. “I can assure you, 100%, no doubt at all, not even a trace of it, not even the faintest whiff, that he <em> likes </em>you.”</p><p>Bokuto looked up at him with wide, unsure eyes, clearly not believing him. </p><p>Kuroo put a hand on his heart. “I swear. I saw it. There is no way he hates you.”</p><p>“He did say I was amazing,” Bokuto added in a whisper. </p><p>“Right! He did! Wait he <em> did </em>?”</p><p>Bokuto could feel a small smile start to tug at the corner of his lips. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Well, then what in the everloving fuck are you worried about! Geez, man.” </p><p>“Should I ask him out again?”</p><p>“Ah, so you <em> do </em>want to date him, then.”</p><p>“I didn’t say that!” Bokuto straightened up, face growing red. </p><p>Kuroo just laughed. “Dude, go for it! He’s hot and has a nice smile, and who cares if he’s probably a vampire.”</p><p>“A what?” Bokuto asked, blush disappearing suddenly to be replaced by pale terror. </p><p>“A vampire, you know,” Kuroo repeated, waving a hand around. “You say you’ve never seen him eat, he probably drinks blood whenever you’re not looking.”</p><p>“Ew. Gross.”</p><p>“I would say kinda hot,” Kuroo replied, raising a finger. </p><p>“So is there a hot alien or not?” Oikawa asked, finally appearing from the shower and making his way to his locker. </p><p>“A vampire, it seems,” Bokuto replied. </p><p>“Uuh!” Oikawa’s eyes sparkled. </p><p>“You took five minutes,” Iwaizumi commented. </p><p>“I have the divorce papers in my bag,” Kuroo promptly added. “We can do this right here and now.”</p><p>“You’re not a lawyer yet, Kuro-chan!” Oikawa complained. “You can’t do that!”</p><p>“Deal,” Iwaizumi said at the same time, finally looking up and grinning. “At last, I’ll be free.”</p><p>“Shut up! You love me!” Oikawa said, pointing a finger at his boyfriend. </p><p>“Only some days.”</p><p>“How about today, then?” Oikawa asked.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Oikawa smiled, satisfied, and carried on getting dressed. </p><p>“It’s gonna for be another day, then,” Kuroo said, wiping a fake tear from under his eye. “I really hoped we could be together now, Iwa-chan.”</p><p>“Another day,” Iwaizumi accepted, making Oikawa gasp indignantly and Kuroo burst out laughing.</p><p>Bokuto couldn't help but smile at his friends, at how they always managed to cheer him up just by existing. </p><p> </p><p>"So, who's dating a hot vampire, now?" Oikawa asked as they made their way out of the gym to join the rest of the team – way faster than Oikawa to get changed – and head out to dinner.</p><p>"He's not a vampire!" Bokuto retorted, voice rising in anger.</p><p>"Oooh, a <em> he </em>," Oikawa said, full on smirking. "We managed to get another one to our shore, Iwa-chan."</p><p>Iwaizumi silently raised his hand for Oikawa to high five, which he promptly did, then they both started laughing. </p><p>"You sound like an evil scientist couple who managed to lure him right into your evil trap to perform your evil agenda," Kuroo said, walking backwards in front of them so he could look at them.</p><p>"But that's exactly what we did," Oikawa retorted. "Be careful, you're next." </p><p>"If you find me a boyfriend I will <em> pay </em> you, Oikawa. Like seriously."</p><p>Bokuto laughed, "Dude, no! What about Kenma? Don't break his heart!"</p><p>"That ungrateful brat is <em> not </em> my boyfriend and <em> you know it. </em>" Kuroo said jamming his finger towards Bokuto. "And I physically can't break his heart. It belongs to the psp I got him last christmas and to chibi-chan. He's nothing to me."</p><p>"Mean!" Oikawa laughed, "You're a worse boyfriend than Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi slapped the back of Oikawa's head, who just laughed harder, "See! And it takes some skill to be worse than this!"</p><p>"Alright. Kuroo, if you want a boyfriend I'm available," Iwaizumi deadpanned, moving a few steps ahead to join Kuroo's side, who beamed.</p><p>"Finally!"</p><p>"No!" Oikawa started screaming, but his whine was covered by the sound of three loud laughs, who really could have been heard all the way to the moon, if only sound could travel through space. </p><p>And Bokuto finally managed to push the image of Akaashi that had been tormenting him out of his head, managed not to think about his sharp eyes, pretty hair, and little smile, and just enjoy a night out, getting slightly drunk with eyes full of food and nothing else.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I start to write Akaashi pov thinking this is going to be serious and deep, and then I switch to Bokuto's pov and I'm like "this fic is now crack." </p><p>Just wanted to specify for future reasons: Kuroo and Kenma really aren't dating yet, but everyone knows Kuroo is in love and makes fun of him for it. </p><p>Also, the line of coding that prevents Akaashi from feeling emotions is probably just something like:<br/>&gt; if: (FeelingEmotions)<br/>&gt; { don't( ) ; }</p><p>I think we're good</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Taste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bokuto Koutarou was many things, but studious wasn’t one of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His attention span while reading a paragraph varied from a couple of seconds to a few minutes when he was actually interested in what he was reading. But ever since he had started to study with Akaashi he found it easier to focus. Maybe it was because sitting next to someone who was really focused all the time was motivating him to stay focused too. Maybe it was because he had started to let himself take a look at the other boy only after finishing a paragraph, as a reward for having finished one without looking up from the page, and as an incentive to keep doing it. It was really nice, looking at him. And if sometimes the reward time lasted a few minutes instead of the seconds he had planned, well, he wasn’t going to complain as long as Akaashi wasn’t either. And it seemed he really didn’t mind, or maybe he just didn’t notice, so focused on his own book as he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto was right in the middle of a paragraph, that day, trying his best to absorb all the information in it so that when he had finished he could steal a look at Akaashi, when his phone rang with the alarm he had set to remind himself to get ready for practice. He would forget to check the time if he didn’t set an alarm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, turned the thing off, and slammed the book shut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi barely reacted, only throwing a sideways glance at him as he stood up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto stretched his back and then leaned on the backrest of his chair to get back to Akaashi’s eye level. “Hey, Akash.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Bokuto-san?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm, how about you come pick me up after practice and we go eat dinner? Just us, not everyone in the team. Well, maybe just us and Kuroo, knowing him. But… What do you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi looked up from his book only to shake his head at him. “Thank you, but I’d rather stay here and study. I can’t afford to lose so much time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto tried his best not to look dejected, but he knew he was making a poor job of it, because Akaashi added, “I’m sorry. Maybe next time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto knew next time was going to be the same as this time and all the times before, but he smiled anyway. “Okay, then. I think there’s some leftover lasagna in the fridge if you want. And don’t go crazy studying too much.” He flicked a finger to his forehead and then darted into his room before he could think too much about why he had just done that. He picked his bag up, which he had ready to go at all times, and stormed back out, stopping only to put his shoes on as quickly as he could. “Okay, I’m going!” he shouted, opening the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodbye, have fun at practice,” called Akaashi from inside, leaning back slightly in his chair to be able to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks! Bye, love you!” And the door slammed shut behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those last words that escaped his lips weren’t supposed to be making him more agitated than he already was. He said ‘love you’ to Kuroo all the time when they parted. He said it to some teammates he barely talked to outside of telling them ‘nice receive!’ or things like that. So it had been a while since he had started saying it to Akaashi too. It had already become a habit. Well, it was just fair, he thought, that he said it to AKaashi too, because they were friends and lived together and if he was going to say it to random teammates he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had to </span>
  </em>
  <span>say it to Akaashi too. But yeah, he didn’t think it through because, for how much he tried to ignore the fact, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>have a crush on him and telling him ‘love you’ every time they parted didn’t seem like a good plan to help him forget about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, whatever. It was a 100% platonic ‘love you’ anyway, it had always been with other people and there was no reason to think it had changed just because he had a little crush now. Plus, Akaashi had barely reacted the first time he had said it, so it really wasn’t a big deal. No reason to overthink it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At practice, just for a change, Bokuto was complaining about it to Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that I want to take him on a date or anything, but I keep asking him out and he always tells me no. He hates me. I must be the worst friend ever. How do you do friends again, Kuroo? I don’t know how to be friends with people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Kuroo sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling, hands on his hips. “I am going to smack you so hard on the face that your head’s gonna turn 180 degrees like a fucking owl if you don’t stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto just pouted, shrinking in his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you just ask him out to dinner again?” Kuroo asked, faking a reluctant tone but clearly caring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude. I told you. He’s a vampire, he will never agree to dinner. When he does it’s the moment you’ve got to start worrying because the dinner is gonna be </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto rolled his eyes, then it was his turn to spike so he trotted away, problems at hand momentarily forgotten. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he circled back to Kuroo’s side he was back in the game, though. “So let’s just pretend for a second you are right,” he said, and Kuroo started laughing, but stopped when Bokuto punched his shoulder. “I’m seriously worried! Should I ask him about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, are you just going to stroll up to him, lean seductively over the couch and ask ‘dude, are you a vampire or something? ‘Cause I’m kinda into that’” he kept wiggling his eyebrows as he said that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto punched him again. “No! I’m gonna ask why he never wants to eat with me. And ask if he’s a vampire later. If he doesn’t answer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo laughed, shaking his head. “Oh!” he lighted up, then, raising a finger, “We could look it up on the internet!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are forums and stuff for these weird questions, you know. Maybe someone had the same problem as you before and someone already answered.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm. Alright, we can try.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“500 on him being a vampire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Raise you 1000 that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re just scared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe so!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo laughed again, giving him a soundly slap on the back and then moving on to practice, and the subject was dropped again, until they found themselves in the locker room after having showered and changed, sitting on the bench in front of their lockers with their heads drawn together over Kuroo’s phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s an ED?” Bokuto asked, eyebrows scrunched up and lower lip caught between his teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eating disorder,” Kuroo said, scrolling a little further in the answers. “Huh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think that’s it?” Bokuto asked, looking up at his friend and feeling on the verge of crying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It said it can be from stress, right?” he asked, pointing a wobbly finger at the phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo just nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit. I should ask him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Bokuto hid his face in his hands. He’d been so stupid. So incredibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Keeping on asking him to eat. Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Of course Akaashi hated him. If he wasn't sure before he was sure now. He’d just been so stupid, he should have figured it out before. Ugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now he had another problem, which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>how the hell can I bring it up without it being weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>how can I help him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey let me know if you ask him,” Kuroo said, still reading the answers on his phone, eyebrows drawn together in concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If</span>
  </em>
  <span>… Of course he was going to ask him! It was important! The only problem was </span>
  <em>
    <span>when. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And also </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Bokuto wasn’t good at being sensitive. He should rehearse a speech. Yeah. He was gonna do that and then try and find a good moment to break the big question. Whenever that might be, hopefully soon enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi would have never thought, just a few months before, that he would find himself being so invested in his academic career, but apparently here he was. Exams were coming up and he desperately wished coffee would work for him like it did with humans, restoring a couple of bars of his battery with every sip. But it didn’t, and it wasn’t like he could drink it, so he just used the heat from the mug to relax when he took breaks from staring at his books. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t understand why he wanted to get good grades, he wasn’t even sure he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for all he knew he was just pretending to attend these courses. The actual purpose of his life would be revealed to him anytime now, and he probably would have to leave that place. But for as long as he had to pose as a student, he had to study, and he didn't mind. He liked learning new things. He just wished it wasn’t so draining. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One evening he was still hunched over the table in the living room, where he had settled down during the day since his room was in perennial darkness, and since he and Bokuto had started to make a habit out of studying together and this table was bigger than any of their desks. He’d been fine with just the light from the window all day, but now that the sun had gone down he didn’t have the strength to stand up to turn on the light or move back in his room, which was the most logical course of action since he knew Bokuto would come home soon from his afternoon practice and he would start roaming aimlessly around the house, being distracting as his usual.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was squinting at the pages, not really seeing much of what he was reading anymore, when the door opened and the usual loud hooting announced Bokuto’s arrival. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Bokuto-san,” he greeted without raising his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing in the dark?” Bokuto asked as soon as he spotted Akaashi squinting at his book, held up in the little light that was still coming through the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too busy to turn the light on,” he explained, turning the page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Geez,” Bokuto toed his shoes off and slammed his hand on the living room light switch as if it was a ball and he was spiking it, flooding the room in bright yellow light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi’s eyes shut close, eyelids programmed to protect the lenses inside his eyeballs, and covered them with a hand for good measure, groaning his distress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto just laughed, and Akaashi heard him make his way to the kitchen. “You want anything?” he called.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, thank you,” Akaashi replied, lowering his hand back to the book and trying to find the line where he had stopped reading. “I already had dinner.” The only excuse he had discovered actually stopped Bokuto from trying to get food inside him was telling him he had already eaten. He always believed him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Bokuto replied wobbling back to the living room balancing a pack of bread and a couple of jars in his arms, and with a spoon between his teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> your dinner?” Akaashi asked, eyeing his loot with a judgemental eyebrow raise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto looked down at his food, shrugged and let himself fall on the couch. “I’ve done worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re supposed to keep a healthy diet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but today I just want to eat garbage! You never have one of those days?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi, rubbed his fingers together, a habit he had picked up while he was thinking, and simply said “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto just hummed something in what seemed like acknowledgment, and Akaashi turned to focus on his book again, ignoring the sounds of the other boy eating behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi wouldn’t admit it, but he was a bit jealous. Not just of Bokuto, but of all humans. He wanted to know what eating was like. Looking at Bokuto eat always made him think how nice it must be, and his system started processing conflicting informations. So he made a point to never look at him, or anyone else, for the matter, while he was eating. It was easier this way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Akaashi?” Bokuto said after a while, probably after he’d finished his dinner, sounding quiet and… concerned? Or maybe it was just the fact that he had put effort into pronouncing his name right for once that made it sound strained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Bokuto-san?” he didn’t turn to look at him, feeling like he would have too much information to process if he did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look tired.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi felt his shoulders stiffen. Did he? Maybe he hadn’t brushed his hair this morning, but that was just because he wasn’t planning on going out. “I’m fine,” he repeated, and this time he turned, to look him in the eyes and make him understand that he meant it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto hummed. “You should sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’ll just finish this chapter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Can I watch tv?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you have to study?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, no?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do that later!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be disappointed in me!” Bokuto pouted, drawing his knees up to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not disappointed,” Akaashi replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi hummed, and at that moment the percentage of his battery level started blinking on and off, turning red. 20%. He knew now it meant he had well over an hour to settle things before shutting down, and if he went in power saving mode he could even reach two hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akaashi?” Again the quiet tone, and when he focused back on him, Bokuto was looking everywhere in the room but directly at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to ask you something… For a while, actually, and I guess I was waiting for the right time to bring it up, but I just thought there’s really not a right time for this, so…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto hummed and hugged his knees thighter, eyes finally settling on the half open bag of bread and jars and dirty spoon on the coffee table in front of him. “I was worried, you know, since you never… eat. With me, I mean. You must eat sometime or you’d be dead,” he chuckled nervously, then cleared his throat, “I mean, I’m sorry maybe I’m saying insensitive shit, I don’t really know how to— I mean. Kuroo joked you were a vampire for a while. But I got worried you might actually be one, you know? It’s stupid, but— yeah, uh— I mean, I did some research, you know, a couple of days ago... I asked google what to do if your friend never eats when you’re around, or something like that, and I… Uhm. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask like this, so you don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable. Just tell me to fuck off and I will, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi was just staring at him, willing his processor to slow down and failing, feeling the fans inside his body start spinning like a top. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have an eating disorder or something?” Bokuto asked, and finally raised his eyes to meet Akaashi’s, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth set in a worried pout. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi took a second to remember he had to answer. “No,” he said simply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? I’m just… I’m worried about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re worried about me?” Akaashi parroted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you ask it like you can’t believe it?” Bokuto chuckled, “You’re my friend, of course I worry about you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We’re friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Akaashi wanted to ask, but stopped himself. Of course they were. How could someone not be friends with Bokuto Koutarou? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… No, I don’t have any disorder. You don’t have to worry.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It is physically impossible for me to have a disorder</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wanted to tell him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You never have to worry about me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Bokuto said, his shoulders relaxing. “Thank god,” he breathed, then pushed his arms up and stretched his back, joints popping soundly.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t want you to ever be worried because of me again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Akaashi thought, and then got distracted by noticing his battery had gone down to 15% already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, looking for things he could shut down in the background to save energy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akash?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened his eyes again. “Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should really go to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were making a weird sound. And your eyes fell closed. I think you’re falling asleep sitting there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not falling asleep,” Akaashi replied, “I’m fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You keep saying that! Do you actually know what it means?” Bokuto chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>13%.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>12%.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akaashi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi realized he had frozen up looking at his percentage, which from an outside eye probably looked like he had just been staring into the void with an absent look on his face. He shook himself to a more upright position. 11%. “Yes. I’ll go. Just a second.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, go right now!“ Bokuto stood up from the couch and made his way across the room with a couple of large strides. He grabbed Akaashi under the armpits and raised him up from his chair. When he put him down again on his feet, his knees wobbled a little and he had to grab onto Bokuto’s arm not to fall down to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>9%. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto helped him get to the bathroom and pushed him inside. Akaashi had a routine in the bathroom – pretending to brush his teeth and flushing an empty toilet – a refined performance for Bokuto’s ears, and then one minute just for himself, to look in the mirror, studying the image he saw and trying to convince himself it was what people saw when they looked at him. A normal boy. Tired looking and normal. He really did look tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>6%. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened the door again to find Bokuto standing just outside it, with his arms crossed over his chest. “Do you want me to tuck you in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi sighed. “No, thank you. I can do that on my own.” He looked at the messy table he had left in the living room, thinking he should go tidy that up, but Bokuto put an arm in front of him and gave him a meaningful look. “The…” Akaashi tried to say, but Bokuto cut him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll tidy those for you. Go. To. Bed.” He accentuated the last words by pushing a finger against Akaashi’s chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, but shuffled quietly to his room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto watched him carefully as he did, and only once he was halfway through the door and about to close it behind him, stopped him with his usual: “Ah-kash.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good night,” he said, smiling happily as if, getting him to go to sleep, he had accomplished the dream of a lifetime. “Love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good night, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi closed the door between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>4%. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wobbled to the bed, pulling the sleeping mask out of the bedside table drawer and settling it carefully over his eyes, all the while replaying Bokuto’s little </span>
  <em>
    <span>love you</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his head. It was nothing unusual. It had been a while since Bokuto had started adding a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>love you</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the end of his goodbyes everytime he left the house or went to sleep. But still, everytime he heard it, Akaashi’s processor sputtered, a gear somewhere missed a teeth and everything in his body stopped working for just a fraction of a second. It was a nuisance, and he didn’t know how to stop it from happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>it to stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>3%. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lowered his head to the pillow and pulled the blanket over his face for good measure. He doubted the blinking red light in his eyes was going to be the worst thing to discover in the eventuality Bokuto ever saw him sleeping, with the fact that he also stopped breathing, the fans keeping ventilation through his circuits shutting down with everything else. He would think he had died. He wouldn’t even notice the lights blinking under his closed eyelids. Probably. Still, Akaashi couldn’t risk it, hence the mask and the covers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>2%. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He passed his fingers over the soft fabric of the sheet on his mattress. He might only have touch receptors on his fingertips, but he was going to use them as much as he could. He supposed he should be grateful. They had given him three senses out of five, it was something. He shouldn’t complain about not having taste buds or smell receptors. He didn’t need to taste the sweet flavour of jam, or smell the sharp aroma of coffee, as long as he could hear the sound of Bokuto’s laugh, see the brightness of his smile, and touch the warmth of his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>1%.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Uh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What was that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever, must be low battery delirium.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi took one last deep breath, then shut himself down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: So</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><span class="u">Volley-BOwl</span>: I asked him</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: OH FINALLY</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: so do you have a boyfriend now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><span class="u">Volley-BOwl</span>: NO. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><span class="u">Volley-BOwl</span>: NOT THAT</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: ah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: right</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: :( </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: so??</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: He says he’s fine</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: do you believe him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: OF COURSE</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: It’s akaashi he doesnt lie!!!!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: lol</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: then cool</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: im glad</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Yeah</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Me too </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: so now that THAT is out of the way</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: when are you going to ask him out for real?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: NO NEVER SHUT UP</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: booooo</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: I will do it only when you ask Kenma out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: BACKSTABBED</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: but deal</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Wait seriously?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: sure why not</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>[</span>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span> sent a </span>
  <a href="https://media1.tenor.com/images/31dd98999cad419d358d05afa657116e/tenor.gif?itemid=12149686">
    <span>gif</span>
  </a>
  <span>]</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Bro</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Sweet</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: I’m counting on you</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: likewise </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: whoever does it first owes the other lunch</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: OH MY GOD </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Deal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: you owe me lunch bro ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: WHAT ALREADY</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: It’s been like ten minutes!!!!!! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: WTF</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: </span>
  <span>_(:3 」∠)_</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: im waiting for my lunch</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: Today already??!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>KuTe</span>
  </span>
  <span>: yes</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Volley-BOwl</span>
  </span>
  <span>: </span>
  <span>(･Θ･)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Akash?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Bokuto-san?” came the reply from way closer than Bokuto had expected it to. He raised his head from his phone, surprised, and saw Akaashi standing just outside of his bedroom doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have you been there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at him, “Were you </span>
  <em>
    <span>spying </span>
  </em>
  <span>on me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I just got out of my own room when you happened to call me. What is the problem?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mh, alright,” he mumbled, still keeping up the suspicious act. “So, uh, I have to take Kuroo out for lunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cause we made a bet, you don’t want to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I was wondering if you… Uhm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I actually was going to ask if you… were going to be okay. On your own. You know, We’ve been studying together lately and I was just going to ask if it was okay if I missed today. ‘Cause I have to take Kuroo out for lunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Akaashi blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Bokuto had decided he was going to stop to ask him to eat with him, ED or not, because he had made it clear he didn’t want to and he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, well, then I’d better get ready.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi moved away from his door, maybe to give him privacy while he changed. Not that Bokuto would have minded, he was used to change in front of a team of other guys, but maybe it was better this way, he had a feeling that with Akaashi it was different than with other guys. When he emerged from his room to go into the bathroom to fix his hair he saw him sitting at the livingroom table, already hunched over a book, nibbling a pen between his teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to go crazy studying that much everyday, but Bokuto knew not everyone was so carefree about the outcome of their academic life as he was. Not everyone had other plans. And for all he knew Akaashi had nothing but his grades to keep up. That was sad. He had to do something about it, get him a hobby. Maybe he’d teach him how to play volleyball, sometime. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m ready!” he announced, opening the bathroom door with flair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think your hair still needs some adjusting, it’s all messed up,” Akaashi commented, without actually looking at him, just making fun of his stylistic choices with his usual flat tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto stuck out his tongue at him, even if he couldn’t see it, and made his way towards the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m going,” he said, putting his shoes on. “Don’t study too much!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t eat too much,” Akaashi replied, and Bokuto laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I will! Bye, love you!” he closed the door behind him and made his way down the landing with a little spring in his step. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he found out that not only was he going to have to offer Kuroo lunch, but Kenma too, his joy faltered a bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The bet was only for you, bro!” he stage whispered to Kuroo once they had met up outside of their diner of choice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What bet?” Kenma asked, looking up at them both from behind his hair, raising only his eyes from the phone he was clutching in his hands like it was his only anchor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothin’,” Kuroo said, waving an arm and smoothly passing it over Kenma’s shoulders, pulling him closer to him, then he spoke to Bokuto: “Bro, we are an </span>
  <em>
    <span>item</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now. A 2x1 package.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As if you weren’t already before,” Bokuto muttered, and walked into the restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, how did it actually go down? I want the juice,” Bokuto asked once they had placed their order and, realizing Kenma actually hadn’t ordered much and wasn’t going to be an expensive treat, finding his cheerfulness again. Plus he realized he might be broke but he actually liked the idea of treating his friends to lunch. He couldn’t wait to become rich and famous and pay for everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>romantic,” Kuroo began, only to stop with a jolt when Kenma kicked his shin under the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sucked,” Kenma said, fiddling with the corner of his napkin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto laughed, “What did he do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was very smooth!” Kuroo tried to say, but Kenma leaned over the table to get closer to Bokuto and tell him the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually,” he said, “we were already together, for starters. We were playing Mario Kart in my room. Kuro just said ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, this is a date now,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ word for word.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo huffed. “See, super smooth. Plus, you can’t shit on me when you </span>
  <em>
    <span>agreed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well,” Kenma said, “I’m the only one who could date you ‘cause I’m the only one who knows how much of a lonely bitch you actually are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo blinked, as if he was trying to understand what had just been said, then his eyebrows drew close together. “HEY!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma giggled, which was a rare sight, and made Bokuto beam at his friends. “Oh my god, you are so adorable,” he said, leaning his cheek on his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is this adorable?” Kuroo asked, “He’s bullying me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Kuro.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My teeth are rotting,” Bokuto went on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait until you taste your milkshake,” said the waitress, who also happened to be their friend Yukie, who was making ends meet working at the diner while she studied to become a nutritionist, depositing their orders on the table. “I made it double sweet for you, Bo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you!” Bokuto exclaimed, barely waiting for the plate to hit the tabletop before attacking it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yukie raised her eyebrows at the three of them, maybe waiting to receive some gossip in return for her kind service, but Kuroo just waved at her and Bokuto was already too focused on his food to notice she was still by their table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end she left with a huff, stealing a couple of fries from Kuroo’s plate. He let her go with only an annoyed little sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Kuroo said after a while, twirling the straw inside his drink, making the ice cubes tinkle against the glass. “When are you owning up to your promise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto choked on a bite, and Kenma silently pushed his milkshake glass a little more towards him, as if reminding him he had it and could drink it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he finally recovered the ability to breathe properly he shot a glare at Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude,” Kuroo chuckled, “You said you would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Bokuto pouted, looking down at his food. “But I feel like I keep messing up, somehow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should just stop thinking, if you ask me,” Kuroo said, shrugging slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are extremely good at following your own advice,” Kenma whispered, and Kuroo smiled amiably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, how nice to be dating your best friend,” he said, reaching out again to wrap an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and drop his head on top of his. “I wish you were a bit taller so I could rest my head on your shoulder, that would be even nicer—” he was interrupted by Kenma pushing an elbow in his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto laughed and looked away. It was a weird feeling, knowing the two people in front of him were now </span>
  <em>
    <span>dating</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when they’d always been a package deal already. And nothing had really changed between them, it seemed. They were still the same people, but now they stole glances at each other, and bumped shoulders more than necessary, and were generally, tooth-achingly and gut-achingly, super sweet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made Bokuto want to barf. Out of jealousy, mostly. He couldn't even look at them because of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. He wanted to feel like that, to be stupidly in love just like his friends, and he didn't know if he ever could. He’d never had anyone special, not like Kuroo had Kenma, or Oikawa had Iwaizumi, and it wasn’t fair that the only people he had for reference were dating their childhood friends. Bokuto was starting to wonder if that was the only true love in the world, and to convince himself that he would never have the chance to feel anything even close to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, inevitably, he was thinking about Akaashi. He wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love </span>
  </em>
  <span>with him, not yet anyway. He'd only known him for a couple of months. But he could imagine himself falling in love with him, because he was just so cool and smart, not to mention incredibly pretty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he could almost tell for sure that, assuming he had the capacity to fall in love at all, he was going to fall in love with Akaashi, eventually. He was pretty certain of it. But what was the point if Akaashi didn't fall in love with him too? And how could he if Bokuto didn't give him a chance to? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That's it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, slurping on the bottom of his milkshake and focusing on the sweet taste of it in his mouth, on the cold making the back of his nose ache, on the sugar crunching between his teeth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have to ask him out.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Akash?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you want to go out tomorrow night?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do you—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not to eat! I mean, just hang out, you know. It's not like we have to go to have a candlelit dinner” he laughed nervously, “We can just hang out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait really?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure, Bokuto-san. Why not?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't until Bokuto closed his bedroom door behind him that he realized he hadn't specified he meant it as a date. Akaashi probably thought they were going to hang out as friends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hid his face in his hands, and slid down to the floor with his back against the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a disaster.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>pretty proud of volley-BOwl and KuTe as nicknames, you know... the first has volleyball, BOkuto AND owl in it. and KUroo TEtsuro is sure cute lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"C'mon c'mon, hurry!" Bokuto said, waving his free hand frantically as he pulled Akaashi along from an arm with the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bokuto-san, when you asked me to go out I was thinking about a movie, maybe, or a walk in the park."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto blinked at him, not really getting what was wrong with taking him to the gym instead. Then he saw Akaashi smile slightly, and he realized he had been joking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, squeezing his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You spend a lot of your time here already. Aren't you sick of it?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never!" Bokuto replied, moving his eyes from Akaashi to the court, empty and glorious. Friday nights were free nights for everybody, and no one was practicing. Which was perfect if you asked Bokuto. He normally would have cried at being left alone to practice, but not tonight. Tonight he was going to teach Akaashi how to play volleyball and the gym was going to be theirs and only theirs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait here." He said to Akaashi, leaving him standing in the middle of the court, and running to go fetch some balls from the storage room. When he came back he found Akaashi looking down intently at his shoes. Well, technically they were Bokuto's shoes. He had lent him a pair cause Akaashi didn't have one for sports. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered why was he looking at them so intently, if maybe he didn't like them, or found them uncomfortable 'cause they weren't his size. But he would have told him if that was the case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright," he called out, making Akaashi whip his head up and pushing the shoes subject out of his own mind. "Time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>volley some balls</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You ready?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure," Akaashi replied, clasping his hands behind his back and standing a little straighter. "What do I have to do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh." Bokuto picked up a ball and twirled it around his hands for a second, then threw it at Akaashi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hit him square in the chest, bouncing then on the ground and rolling idly to a stop back by Bokuto's feet. He looked up from the ball he had followed with his eyes to find that Akaashi was staring at him with wide eyes and scrunched up eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why did you do that?" Akaashi asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I— Uh! You were supposed to catch it!" Bokuto said, throwing his arms out in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Right." Akaashi pulled his hands from behind his back and widened them in preparation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto picked the ball back up and threw it again. This time it fell gently into Akaashi's hands, and he couldn't help but stare at the way the other boy's eyes widened slightly while holding it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's smooth," Akaashi said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto snorted, and then started full on laughing when Akaashi looked up at him in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was going to die from this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001 </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of the ball hitting the ground on the other side of the net echoed in the empty gym and made Akaashi's teeth rattle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way Bokuto looked at him once he had landed back on his feet and turned towards him made something else in him rattle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How did you—" Bokuto started, but stopped himself. "That was—" he tried again, but seemed to bit his tongue. "One more?" he asked in the end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi nodded, "Sure."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometime later that night they made their way back home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you tired?” Bokuto asked as soon as they went through the door, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it mindlessly on the floor of the hall as he quickly padded to the couch, socked feet slightly skidding on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not particularly,” Akaashi replied, picking the jacket up and settling it on the hanger. He also checked his battery, just to make sure his words held truth, and sure enough it was still over 40%. He had been farsighted that afternoon, anticipating that Bokuto, being Bokuto, would take him somewhere that would require some deal of energy, and had taken a nap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m beat!” Bokuto exclaimed, throwing his head back on the couch cushions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because you ran up four floors of stairs, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” he dismissed the comment, waving his hands in the air. “If you want to shower you can go first,” he added. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Akaashi had yet to take his jacket off, but stopped, thinking about how could he get out of having to waste so much water to take a shower he didn’t need to wash away sweat he hadn’t produced. He guessed he could just take the chance and wash his hair, since he had to do that every now and then, to avoid looking like a runaway. It wasn’t like a little water was going to break him, as long as he kept his mouth and eyes shut and was careful not to let any enter his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” Bokuto asked, likely when he saw that Akaashi was still stuck in the same spot and didn’t seem keen on moving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you sweated way more than me, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this a kind way to tell me I stink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wouldn’t know,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, but replied, “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto raised an arm and sniffed his armpit, then made a face and with an excessive leg movement propelled himself to a standing position and rushed to the bathroom without adding a single word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Around ten minutes later, Akaashi had settled down on one of the kitchen counter stools, after having made himself a cup of scalding hot coffee and then promptly forgetting about it in favor of looking at his phone, which was a way more enjoyable activity to kill some time with than staring into the unblinking dark brown void of the drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Bokuto entered the kitchen, wearing only his pajama pants, he put his phone down, though. It felt impolite to keep scrolling while in company, and moreover he thought that looking at Bokuto was an even more enjoyable pastime than looking at his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who are you?" he asked, to which Bokuto promptly laughed. He had been asking him that every single time he saw him with his hair down, and always managed to get him to laugh, as if each time it was the first one he ever heard the joke. Akaashi's eyes trailed his movements as he made his way to the cupboard to get a pack of biscuits, and if he got a little frozen staring at his bare back as he raised his arms to reach the cookies, he blamed it on some line in his coding which forced him to be observant of every detail in the environment around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are your hands sore?" Bokuto asked, leaning against the kitchenette and opening up his loot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi blinked, a little slow in processing the question since he'd been distracted, then lowered his eyes to his hands and noticed he was rubbing his fingers together and pushing his thumbs against his palms. He had started doing that while thinking, but now it had become a sort of comfort, much like holding a hot mug, or passing his fingertips over his sheets before shutting off. He liked the constant reminder that he could feel things with his hands, and so he fiddled with his fingers. He didn't think anyone would notice, it was such a little gesture. But of course Bokuto had noticed. And he thought he was sore after having played volleyball. It was a fair assumption. His fingers would have probably hurt had they been normal fingers, after all the tosses he had done. But they didn't hurt. They just missed touching something, probably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed, remembering he had yet to answer. It was a noncommittal hum and was usually enough to shut Bokuto up when the enquiry was small enough. He just made of it what he wanted, turning the hum into a yes or a no depending on what he wanted to hear. Like after a "do you still wanna watch this movie?" a hum could both mean "yeah, it's cool" if Bokuto was enjoying it and was just worried Akaashi was getting bored, or "no, it's terrible" if Bokuto was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hating</span>
  </em>
  <span> the movie and was trying to test the waters to check if Akaashi was actually liking it before switching channels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a refined art, the hum, and now it granted him a wide smile from Bokuto and a very in depth story of the first time he jammed a finger while hitting a ball wrong and how he had thought it was broken and that he could never play volleyball again and had cried for one day straight until it had stopped hurting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto then asked if it hurted bad, and if he wanted some salonpas gel or, and this last part he said jokingly, or maybe laughing a bit from embarrassment, if he wanted a massage or something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi realized he'd been smiling at the story because now he felt his cheeks fall. He gathered his hands and pushed them down under the countertop, on his lap, out of view. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was a no. Categorical. Bokuto could </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> get close to his hands enough to properly look at them, or the secret would be out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's okay!" Bokuto quickly recovered, waving his hands around frantically. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, dude, I'm sorry. It was just a joke, I'll… uhm. I'll just get that gel out and leave it on the sink for you, alright? So if you want it… it's there. When you shower." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi nodded silently and stood perfectly still as Bokuto quickly darted out of the room.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he was out of sight Akaashi lowered his eyes to his hands again, freeing them from their own grasp and looking at his open palms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were smooth and unmarked. No lines, no moles, no veins could be seen underneath his skin. Narrow palms, long fingers. He turned them around, looking at their back. Still smooth, no marks, perfectly trimmed fingernails that never needed cutting, no little flaps of skin to peel away from next to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto's hands were so different. He had studied them carefully. While he studied next to him and played with the corner of the page or fiddled with a pen. When he held the remote with both hands while they were choosing what to watch on tv at night. When he played volleyball, that was when they shined more than anything. He studied them when they were still, and when they were moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands were different. His palms were wider, and harder, with callouses. His fingers were shorter, stronger. The back of his hands was weaved with veins that sometimes grew bigger, the very sign of his being </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of his heart pumping blood where it was needed with more speed and strength. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands were alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi's hands were </span>
  <em>
    <span>fake</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p><span>They were the fakest part of him and he </span><em><span>despised</span></em> <em><span>them</span></em><span> for it. Anyone who'd take a closer look at his hands would </span><em><span>see</span></em><span>. </span></p><p>
  <span>Maybe that was also why he fiddled with them. To hide them behind movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to remind himself that despite being fake they were still useful he held scalding hot mugs, and he pressed his thumbs into his palms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just to feel a little bit alive as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Akaashi came out of the bathroom, after having washed and dried his hair carefully, he found Bokuto had fallen asleep on the couch, tv still on on some trashy wedding planning program. He turned the tv off and approached the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pondered if waking him up to tell him to go to bed would be a good idea or not, but as soon as he saw how peaceful he looked, with his hands clasped together on his stomach and a little smile on his lips, he decided it would be too cruel to disturb him. So he picked up a blanket from his room and draped it over him, tugging it close to his chin and being careful to check that it covered his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied, he pulled back, fighting the urge to move his hair out of his forehead, to feel the texture of it between his fingers, to run his index over his nose, following its curve, to— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turned his back to the couch and marched into his own room, closing the door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time he couldn’t blame his thoughts on low battery, he was still at 29%. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could either shut down for the night or distract himself letting his battery run out before turning off. He reasoned that if he just went to sleep his problems would be back with the same intensity of right now as soon as he turned on again the following morning, so his only option was deal with it now and get it over with, so tomorrow he could have a normal day as always. He had to distract himself. He turned on the light and picked up a book. He still had an exam to prepare, and a little less than 30% of battery to go. He could use the time to study. No better way to push thoughts out of his head than focus all his processes on memorizing information. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He settled down cross legged on the bed, and started reading. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One evening Bokuto came home from practice to a darkened flat. The front door had been open, though, so Akaashi must have been inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m home!” he called out, toeing his shoes off while he waited for a response. Nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing he could hear, in the silence of the night, was a soft whirring sound, that reminded him of the fan of his computer when it overheated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged his jacket off, as his eyes started to adjust to the darkness and started to notice that he could actually see something, with the light of a lampost from outside the living room window: a huddled shape on the sofa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akash?” he whispered, even if he didn’t know why he whispered. Everything was so quiet, though, and it felt wrong to disturb the atmosphere too much. He approached the couch silently, just to make sure that the bundle was in fact Akaashi and not just a pile of blankets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Akaashi. He had brought his duvet over from his room, and had it draped over his head. He was staring with vacant eyes at the tv, which was turned off, but Bokuto thought it must have been on at some point, for him to be still staring at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down on the other end of the couch, careful not to move the cushions to much as not to disturb him. “Are you okay?” he whispered, frowning at his friend absent face as it turned slowly to look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a soft, long sigh, and Bokuto could swear the whirring sound got a little louder just then, but, while still wondering what it could have been, he decided to ignore it and focus only on his friend instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Akaashi said matter of factly, barely a whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Bokuto asked, inching closer on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he sighed again, turning his head back to stare in front of him. “Just an exam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Bokuto felt his shoulders relax, and felt kinda bad about it. Even if it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>just an exam</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was clearly important for Akaashi for him to be so upset. Bokuto shouldn’t be dismissing his own worry so easily. “Did you fail?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi shook his head. “It would have been better if I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you ask me, nothing worse than failing, cause then you have to study it all again and that’s just a pain in th—” he stopped when he saw Akaashi drop his forehead on his raised knees. “Hey, hey,” he said, getting a little bit closer still and putting a hand on his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m useless,” he heard him whisper, “I can’t do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can,” he said, starting to rub circles on his back and hoping he could feel it through the duvet and his sweater. “You’re like the smartest person I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised his head again and leaned back to rest against the backrest of the couch, trapping Bokuto’s hand in between. He wiggled free, and sat awkwardly there for a second, waiting for him to do or say something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, but it’s not use to have knowledge when I can’t… express it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, was it oral?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, orals are the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi turned to look at him again, and Bokuto stared back, a determined frown on his forehead. He was going to make him feel better, one way or another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Akaashi said, “I don’t think I’ve been… programmed for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto chuckled, “Yeah, me neither, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I know it’s my fault. I deserved that grade. But. I’m still…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angry. I think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto lowered his gaze and noticed he was fiddling with his fingers, pushing his thumb into his palm, and pulling and twisting his other fingers. “Hey,” he said, reaching out and taking his hands in his. Akaashi stilled for a second, and Bokuto waited for him to pull his hands back, but then he didn’t, so he started rubbing circles with his thumbs on his knuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” he couldn’t help but whisper, “Your hands are cold. Do you want me to get another blanket?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not cold. It’s just… poor circulation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Alright.” He kept going, trying to rub the tension out of him starting from his hands, and also marvelling at what nice hands they were. His skin was so smooth, and his fingers were thin and long, but he could feel that they were also strong, and he remembered how nice his tosses had been when they had played volleyball. He could feel his cheeks starting to heat up, and hoped the darkness was enough to cover the fact. “Feeling better?” he asked, just so he wouldn’t have to listen to his own thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want a hug?” he asked, and before he could even open his arms properly Akaashi was pushing his face into his chest, hands rising up to grab the back of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto lowered his hands on his back and squeezed. Oh this was nice. He could do this all day. He bent his head down, resting his chin on top of Akaashi’s hair, and breathed in the smell of his shampoo, and rejoiced in the way his hair tickled his nose. He raised a hand and carded his fingers through his hair, twirling the locks around his fingers and taking stock of how soft they were, and how that small contact managed to send shivers all the way from his hand to the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Akaashi whispered, squeezing a little bit tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed like that for some time, though Bokuto couldn’t tell how much. Could have been a few minutes, could have been hours. He was too engrossed in the feeling of Akaashi’s hair between his fingers, and the feel of him pressed up against his chest, and how nice it all felt, to notice the passing of time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, when Akaashi pulled back he couldn’t help but think ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>already?’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san,” he said in his serious voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to tell you something.” He gathered his hands in his lap again, but they stood still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Bokuto’s eyes were trained on his hands, not daring to look up in his eyes, and his brain was trying to figure out what he was going to tell him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you for the hug but I don’t really like touching you that much after all, let’s not do that ever again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I like you but I know you want more out of this and I can’t give it to you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m very sick and I’m going to die in about a week, that’s why I was freaking out, not an exa</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not human. I’m an android.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s brain went blank, and he could almost feel a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>loading</span>
  </em>
  <span> circle cursor turning and turning inside his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”   </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Smell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry this took me longer than expected, with the holidays i have a bit of trouble keeping a schedule for writing! I hope this kinda fluffy chapter can make up for my lateness ajdkajskajsa</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Staying with his cheek pressed against Bokuto’s chest might have been the best thing in the world, as long as Akaashi was concerned. He could hear his heart beating strong against his ear, and feel the slow rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathed. And also his sweatshirt was incredibly soft and warm in his closed fists. It was similar to being under his duvet; there was the same feeling of safety and warmth, but this was 100 times better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regrettably, it couldn’t last forever, and Akaashi knew it too well. His battery would run out soon, even if it had stopped dropping since Bokuto had sat next to him, managing to slow his processor just by existing. He couldn’t let himself shut down in his arms, though, for how much he wanted it. Bokuto still didn’t know. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>know. It was dangerous. Still, Akaashi wanted so desperately to tell him. He was feeling words threatening to burst through his mouth, words he’d been thinking about saying for some time. Because he was tired of hiding it, because he wanted more out of all of this, because he wanted Bokuto to like him for what he was and not for what he thought he was, because he wanted him to be the last thing he saw before turning off and the first thing he saw when turning on, and he couldn’t do that unless he told him the truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back from the hug, eyes downcast and eyebrows furrowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Bokuto’s voice wasn’t trying to stay steady. Even if it was barely more than a whisper, it sounded like he was out of breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let go of his sweater, and joined his hands together in his lap, eyes trained on them to keep himself from looking at Bokuto, thinking that if he had his voice would have died in his throat and he would have never been able to say what he wanted to say. “I have to tell you something.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Okay.”</span> <span>Bokuto whispered again, small and worried. Akaashi couldn’t help but look up at him, then. He was looking down at Akaashi’s hands too, and seemed afraid to look him in the eyes.</span></p><p>
  <span>Akaashi took a deep breath, steadying himself for the blow. “I’m not human. I’m an android.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s eyes shot up, meeting his own. His eyebrows moved up in his forehead, then down, then up again, as he stared at him for the entirety of 14 seconds. In the end he managed to say, “What?” in a high pitched strangled voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an android,” Akaashi repeated. “I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to tell you. I’m being selfish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bokuto repeated again, less strangled and more breathy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m putting you in danger, and I’m so incredibly sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s hands shot out and grabbed onto his shoulders. “Akashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a shaky breath. “Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why… you don’t need need to eat…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t have a stomach, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh... I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t help the laughter the rose in his throat after that. He brought a hand up to his face and turned away trying to stifle it, but it just came out a little bit louder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s grip on his shoulders tightened. “Why are you laughing?! Are you broken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha no, no! It’s just that— why was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>you first concern? And— why are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, ‘cause I love eating. And I’m sorry you can’t do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was still laughing softly, and reached out a hand to grab at one of Bokuto’s pulling it away from his shoulder and down on his knee. “Thank you, I suppose. But you don’t have to worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, if you don’t have a stomach… then why do you make yourself coffee all the time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t stop smiling. Bokuto was really taking it well, he was impressed. “I like feeling the heat of it on my hands,” he explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto turned his own hand so that Akaashi’s was resting palm down in it, and started to study it. “You can feel things, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only with my fingertips.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I meant— feelings. Do you have… emotions and stuff like that? Or were you just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretending?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto looked up at him from under his lashes, not raising his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi sighed. “What would you rather hear as an answer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The truth,” Bokuto replied without hesitation, giving his hand a little squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’m supposed to, but I do,” he said, letting his other hand join in holding onto Bokuto’s. “I feel anger for a bad grade, I feel content holding something warm in my hands and touching soft things, I feel… excited while watching you play volleyball. And I think… I think I feel most happy when I’m with you, and I don’t really know how to explain it, but… I like… listening to you. Listening to you talking and breathing and… </span>
  <em>
    <span>living</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused for a second, thinking it was weird that Bokuto was staying silent through it all, and looking up at his face he found out why: heavy tears were flowing down his cheeks, fast and unstoppable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said, raising a hand to cup his cheek and wipe the tears away with his thumb. “Don’t cry… Why are you crying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto leaned into his touch, sniffling loudly. “I’m sorry, I just really like hearing you talk too, and you never do that much. And—” sniffle, “I’m very happy when I’m with you too, and—” another sniffle, “I think you smell very nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, thank you. I don’t know what you smell like but I bet it’s very nice too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you couldn’t actually smell me all the times you told me I stink?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I was just making fun of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s mean,” he sniffled again, but the tears had stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but also fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re mean, Akaashi. But I like you anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like you too, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto made a weird sound and dropped his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just can’t believe you’re a robot. It’s weird. You are so real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a robot, I’m an android. And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> real. I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mh. I mean… You look human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, there it was. “You don’t believe me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I do. It’s just…” he raised his hands to his hair and pulled at the strands, making them fall from their carefully messed up position to a mess that was less designed yet somehow more endearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you hear this sound?” Akaashi asked, and looked as Bokuto slowly lowered his hands and squinted in concentration. “The whirring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he answered, “Sounds like my computer when—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto tilted his head to the side, before leaning in to hear better, to make sure it really was coming out of him. “Uh, cool,” was all he said after a few seconds of careful listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like your computer, like you said, when it has trouble processing something and the fans go wild trying to lower the internal temperature so the circuits don’t catch fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you having trouble processing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm. A bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First because of my exam, and then… well, because you are sitting very close and were holding my hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Do you want me to... stop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto reached out a hand again, tentatively. Akaashi took it in his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna catch fire if I hold your hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle at the worried expression on Bokuto’s face. “No. I’m good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto seemed satisfied, shoulders relaxing and eyebrows unfurling from the middle of his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, why are you a robo— uh, an android?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I mean, what are you here for? Why couldn’t you be a human person—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet. I’m waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Instructions. They’ll probably send me do some work that normal </span>
  <em>
    <span>human people</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t want to do,” he smiled repeating Bokuto’s words to indicate a person. “Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long do you have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto started worrying his lower lip between his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Akaashi found himself saying. “I shouldn’t have told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m glad you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, me too, but I shouldn’t have. I’m not supposed to tell. You could be in danger now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Danger of what?” Bokuto chuckled, “The android police out to get me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Possibly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto straightened up, turning serious again. “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it is illegal to hide an android, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I don’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. Now you know. If they ever arrest you pretend you didn’t know. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. This is weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>11% </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m running out of battery. That little… breakdown earlier drained me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. But…” Bokuto looked torn, at war with something inside his own head, and was squeezing Akaashi’s hand just a little too hard without noticing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Akaashi asked, squeezing right back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t want you to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want me to sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto raised his head and looking like he was about to cry again said: “‘Cause I’ll miss you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I go to sleep everyday, Bokuto-san, and so do you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>9%</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Akaashi conceded, leaning towards him again and resting his head against his chest. It wasn’t like it wasn’t the thing he wanted to do more than anything. “But I will turn off in a few minutes, just so you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long?” Bokuto asked, lowering the arms he had raised in surprise when Akaashi had leaned in to circle his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mh, I’m at 8%. I’d say 10 minutes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need me to… uhm, plug you somewhere? To recharge?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi chuckled. “No need. I self recharge while I’m off. I convert the kinetic energy I stored during the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw Bokuto’s hand reach up to his hair and wished he could feel it. How nice would it be to feel his fingers carding through his hair. Would it tickle? Would it send shivers down his back? And how nice it would be to smell the fabric softener on his shirt, he thought as he pressed his nose harder against it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does you shirt smell like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Akaashi raised his chin to observe him as he raised a shoulder to his nose and inhaled. “It smells of the fabric softener and a little bit of deep-fry ‘cause I waited for Kuroo near a street-food truck, earlier. It’s a weird combination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” He didn’t want to tell him he had no idea what either of those things were supposed to smell like, so he just closed his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you shutting down?” Bokuto asked, sounding concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet. Don’t be worried about it, it’s just like sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, no wait. I’ll stop breathing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only need to breathe when I’m on, as ventilation. I don’t breathe when I’m off. But I’m not dead. So don’t freak out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Suspicious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise, I won’t die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably. I don’t think I can... </span>
  <em>
    <span>age</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi felt the grip Bokuto had on him tighten a little, since his face got squished a little against his chest. He’d gotten quiet after that, and Akaashi couldn’t help but frown. “Why are you sad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto shrugged slightly. “I kinda hoped we could be friends forever even when we’d be old and boring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san. I’d love to be friends with you forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had just enough time to look up and meet Bokuto’s eyes before everything went black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had gone limp in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was terrifying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it wasn’t for the little red light that was blinking on and off behind his closed eyelids casting a faint glow on his cheekbones in the dark, Bokuto would’ve have really thought he had died. He found it hard to remember he was an android, even if he’d just learned about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He passed a thumb over his closed eyelids, but stopped there. He was worried he’d wake him up before he could properly recharge. How long would it take him? All night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was scared of getting up, of accidentally waking him up while shifting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end he decided that sleeping on the couch was just going to be uncomfortable for the both of them. Assuming Akaashi </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel uncomfortable while sleeping. Being off and all that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well… Bokuto shifted him slightly, pushing himself out from under him and wrapping the duvet around him like a cocoon, then circled his shoulders with one arm and put the other under his knees, and pulled himself to his feet taking Akaashi with him. He was lighter than he’d imagined, lighter than a boy his height should have been, but not too light for it to be creepy. He was still solid enough that Bokuto wasn’t afraid of accidentally breaking him if he dropped him. Not that he was gonna drop him, but just in case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked slowly towards Akaashi’s room, careful to where he was stepping to avoid tripping, and managed to get to his bed without any incident. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set him down, freed him from the duvet and laid it down over him. He wasn’t sure if he’d need it, but seeing he had brought it over to the couch he must have liked it, so he tucked it carefully under his chin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat there for a minute in the dark, looking at the blinking lights and not really thinking about anything except “wow”. But eventually his brain caught up, and he was thinking “why did he tell me if he thinks it might be dangerous?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What if he’d realized that Bokuto was trying to make a move? What if this was his way of telling him to stop, that it couldn’t work? But the thing was, this new knowledge wasn’t making Bokuto like him any less. A little bit more maybe, because if he thought Akaashi was cool before, now he thought he was the coolest thing ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, maybe he should stop, if that was what Akaashi wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got up, left the room and closed the door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Akaashi opened his eyes he knew it was morning even if there was barely any light in his room. He also knew he hadn’t turned off there, so Bokuto must have moved him. He sat up and found himself neatly wrapped up in his duvet. He found his phone parked on the bedside table plugged in to the charger. He stood up and walked out, blinded for a second by the light in the rest of the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard shuffling noises from the kitchen, so he moved towards it to investigate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto was standing at the stove with his back to the door, humming something to himself and messing around with a pot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Akaashi said to announce his presence, and Bokuto jumped in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah! You’re awake, good! Here, I made you coffee!” Bokuto said, and quickly grabbed a mug, filled it to the brim with steamy black coffee and put it on the counter for Akaashi to take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did, wrapping both his hands around it and savouring the slight pain the heat made him feel. He brought it up to his face and inhaled, even if he couldn’t smell it, he could kind of feel the warmth of the smoke rising from it in the back of his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, I’m not very good with explaining things with words but,” Bokuto started, messing with the hem of his t-shirt, “Coffee smells like… like mornings. And like yellow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi stilled. “Yellow?” he repeated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, cause it’s sharp, but warm, and bright,”  he explained, and looked up at him through his eyelashes. “It’s… it smells like dirt sometimes, but when it’s good it’s yellow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does this one smell like, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely yellow.” Bokuto beamed, and Akaashi felt like he had coffee running through his veins. Sharp, warm and bright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved forward, resting the cup on the counter to have free hands, and stopped in front of Bokuto, who looked at him puzzled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once in his short life, Akaashi wasn’t thinking about anything except the presence of the other boy in front of him, who had been thoughtful enough to take him back to bed, plug his phone to its charger, and try to explain a smell to him in a way he could understand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached his hands up and grabbed his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s eyebrows shot up in his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only had time for a little “oh,” before Akaashi closed his lips by pressing his own against them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back quickly to see his reaction, and was pleased to see a blush start to spread on his cheeks. Akaashi moved his thumbs in circles over his cheekbones. “Listen, I have no idea what </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>is,” he started, not really knowing where he was going to go from there but definitely wanting to go somewhere, “I only have a couple of movies for reference. I don’t think I can feel emotions the way humans do, they’re not chemical reactions or nerves, for me, they’re just... electric signals. But one thing I know is that I care so much about you and I want to be by your side forever. And think that’s the closest I can get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto was getting redder by the second. He opened his mouth, managed to get out a: “I… uh, yeah.” And then thought better of it and simply leaned in to kiss him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi moved his thumbs from his cheekbones closer to his mouth, and pulled back to press them to Bokuto’s lips. Bokuto raised a hand to grab his and keep it there as he proceeded to kiss every single one of his fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you catch fire—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi laughed, “Stop asking me that, I won’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One hundred percent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s impossible to be more than 100%—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be one hundred and </span>
  <em>
    <span>twenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> percent sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s mathematically incorrec—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped, seeing Bokuto wide expectant eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. 120% sure my circuits will not, under any circumstances, ever catch fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto beamed, as bright as the morning sun. “Nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was, like every single time, taken aback by how wonderful seeing him smile was. He wanted to keep him smiling forever. “Bokuto-san?” he started, as Bokuto’s smile turned into a more delicate one, and his hands held tight to Akaashi’s, “I want to devote myself to your happiness, if you’ll let me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto stilled, then brought his hands up to cover his face, letting go of Akaashi’s. He mumbled something unintelligible, and Akaashi reached out to move his hands back down so he could look at his face, pleseantly red from chin to forehead, all the way to the tip of his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi smiled and raised his hands to once again touch Bokuto’s blushed cheeks: warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto looked on the verge of bursting into flame and if Akaashi didn’t know that humans couldn’t actually spontaneously combust he would have been worried. Instead he just leaned in once more to press his lips against his forehead, and then both his cheeks, and then— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a loud bugle made Bokuto jump backwards a step, out of his reach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit—” he quickly reached for his phone, resting on the counter, and turned off the alarm. “I forgot it’s Saturday.” No classes meant morning practice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto glanced at Akaashi and looked conflicted about having to go play volleyball for maybe the first time in his life. “Do you…?” he started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi looked down at himself, still in his pajamas and with a head of likely terrible hair, remembering how he had treated them the day before. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up to you by lunch time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto’s eyes widened and sparkled. “Really?” he asked, hopeful and a little disbelieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” Bokuto beamed, and then darted out of the kitchen to go grab his bag. It took him less than a minute to be back in the kitchen doorway. “Uh,” he started, stopping to scratch the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi closed the few steps between them and grabbed his shirt to pull him forward and kiss him goodbye. “Have fun at practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, thanks,” Bokuto replied, slightly breathless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And don’t tell anybody. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto stilled, head slightly tilted. “About the android part or the… love part?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The android part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean I can tell about… the other one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges, and grabbed Akaashi’s face with both his hands. “Sweet.” He placed a quick peck on his lips, then whispered: “Love you too,” and with that he was out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t know how a simple goodbye greeting, one he’d heard a thousand times before, with the addition of one little three-lettered word could change meaning so deeply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It left him standing frozen on the kitchen door, leaning against the frame, a smile he couldn’t help spreading on his lips, and warm, sharp, bright yellow replacing his every logic thought.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto arrived at the gym early, as usual. He changed quickly and started to fix the net, soon joined by a couple of other early comers from the team. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo arrived at the gym late, which was not unusual, but not </span>
  <em>
    <span>usual</span>
  </em>
  <span> either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto shot him a scolding glare, annoyed that his gossip would have to wait. Kuroo shrugged an apology in his direction as he started running laps around the court as penalty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto was practically vibrating for the whole duration of practice, glad he could run and jump about and do something with his excess energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to find himself next to Kuroo sometime in the middle of it all. “Why were you late?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spent the night at Kenma’s and forgot my things in my room. And I hadn’t considered the time it would take me to go fetch them in setting my alarm this morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should just move in with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto chuckled. “Moving fast, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wait? We could die tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, how are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m great!” Bokuto replied, a smile breaking out on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto opened his mouth to answer, but in that moment the coach called to form teams for a practice match and they had to part ways, ending up on opposing teams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around the end of the first set Bokuto glanced to the bleachers, and saw Akaashi sitting there, watching the match intently. He felt a rush of adrenaline and spiked twice as many winning points as before. Playing with an audience was really another thing, ten thousand times better than when no one was there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude,” Kuroo breathed out from the other side of the net after Bokuto had scored with a slow lob that peacefully sailed above Kuroo’s hands. “Stop showing off, we get it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He kissed me this morning,” Bokuto whispered back, feeling manic saying it but not really caring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo straightened up, raising his eyebrows impressed. “Well, good job” he said, then turned to the bleachers and raised a thumbs up towards Akaashi, who just looked down at them confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto reached a hand out under the net and swatted at Kuroo, telling him to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo just laughed, “So are you boyfriends now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto stilled, “I don’t know, we haven’t talked about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Kuroo said, nodding to himself, with a wicked smile, “I get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t, shut up,” Bokuto complained, and then had to move away from the net as Oikawa arrived to grab him from the neck of his shirt and drag him back to his position. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the end of the match Bokuto ran to the bottom of the bleachers waving for Akaashi to get down. “Toss to me for a bit?” he asked as soon as he was within earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you tired?” Akaashi asked walking down the last few steps with a concerned set of eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never!” Bokuto replied, beaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, then” Akaashi said, “Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto pushed a celebratory fist in the air, and then moved with the rest of the team to the changing room to get his extra pair of shoes for Akaashi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are unbelievable,” Kuroo told him, head shaking and hands resting on his hips as he watched him fumble through the contents of his bag. “You could go on a lunch date, you could go home to make out for the rest of the day, and you decide to play volleyball.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with that?” Bokuto whined, “Volleyball is the best thing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than making out, really?” Kuroo asked, eyebrows raising in disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes!” Oikawa chimes in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t eavesdrop, you dick!” Kuroo said, turning around to glare at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You only say that cause Iwaizumi’s not here to kick your butt,” Bokuto commented, finally finding the spare shoes and raising them up victorious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwa-chan is too rough a lover to me. I’m delicate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Delicate my ass,” Kuroo replied, “You’re a menace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay guys, have fun, I’m going!” Bokuto annouced, and didn’t wait to hear their replies before bolting out, their voices only distant calls behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What does the gym smell like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now? Mostly sweat. It’s… sharp. Not very nice objectively speaking, but it has its charm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi glanced at the open door and nodded to himself as if he had wondered the reason behind it and had now received an answer. Bokuto observed him as he made the ball twirl between his hands and then raise it up closer to his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Volleyballs smell of fun,” Bokuto said, and Akaashi looked up from the ball to him with wide, intrigued eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to start?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever you are.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Akaashi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to ask you something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting on the few steps leading out of the gym, sheltered under the little roof jutting out over them as rain plummeted down heavily around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you my boyfriend now?” Bokuto blamed Kuroo for this, he had put the bug in his brain and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. Technically speaking I’m not a boy, so… I don’t know how that would work, for the semantics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto turned to look at him, and found him staring straight ahead out into the rain. “Right.” He tried not to sound too disappointed, but knew that his voice often betrayed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I guess…” Akaashi went on, and Bokuto found himself involuntarily straighten up, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>boyfriend. And I could be your—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Robot</span>
  </em>
  <span>friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a robot. I was going to say that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>be your boyfriend, if you like putting names to things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would really </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> it if you were my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto smiled, shifting to sit a little closer and resting his head on his shoulder. “Cool,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised a hand and intertwined his fingers in Bokuto’s, squeezing lightly. “Very cool, indeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto laughed, took a deep breath and then began to try and explain the smell of the rain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have another question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How… how do you work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a program running in your brain? Like… I have no idea how— how do you work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi smiled, lowering his eyes to his feet as they walked towards home. “I do have a program. It’s a code. Lots of ones and zeros.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you write the code?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, someone wrote it for me. But… I changed some things with time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a command to emulate the people around me, to learn to behave like a normal human being. I deleted that when we started hanging out more, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I didn’t want to emulate you. I wanted to be my own version of myself. Someone you would want to be friends with, not a copy of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto tried to imagine what it would be like if Akaashi had went on and copied his personality and grimaced. “That would have been weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you can write it over. Change it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they write the worry in or did you add it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi chuckled. “That’s all me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, makes sense. I wouldn’t put anxiety in my computer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why did you put it in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good question. I thought it was gonna be useful. As a survival skill or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess it is. Okay I have another question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if, while writing or changing something you accidentally erase some important bits?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what if you make a mistake? It could happen! Or what if you catch a virus that deletes everything? Like on my pc, once it froze and I couldn’t look at my stuff anymore. What do you do if it happens to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not… it won’t happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Don’t you have a backup or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” He looked pensive, then shrugged. “I should do that. It’s a smart idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, you’re welcome,” Bokuto beamed, throwing an arm around his shoulders and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at the way Akaashi’s eyes flickered to him after he pulled back again, and at the little smile playing on his lips, and felt so warm inside. He tilted his head to the side to bonk it against his, and whispered: “God, do I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk back home was uneventful, even though it involved a good amount of handholding, which made Akaashi grateful. He liked holding Bokuto’s hand a lot, move his fingers over the skin of his knuckles and feel the warmth and the gentle squeezes. There were a few moments when Bokuto would let go, only to wrap his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and kiss his cheek, or his neck even, once. He would hook his chin on his shoulder from behind every time they stopped at a red light, like he couldn’t wait for every opportunity he had to rest his head there, like the space between Akaashi’s shoulder and neck was the place his face was meant to be and he was just returning it to its original spot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the little kisses. There were so many little kisses. On his cheek, shoulder, hair, hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so many whispered “i love you”s in his ear. Akaashi was a little overwhelmed by it all, but wasn’t complaining because it was an extremely pleasant way to be overwhelmed. Sure, his processes sputtered and his knees felt a bit weak, like he had to focus too much attention on what Bokuto was doing to direct energy towards keeping himself standing upright, but it was nice nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they got to the front door Bokuto held it open to let him inside, and as soon as it was closed again behind them he grabbed his face and kissed him square on the lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon passed by in a blur of sloppy kisses, broken laughs, and whispered words, and then it was dinner time, and they cooked dinner together and Bokuto kept trying to describe smells and flavours to him, and Akaashi would just melt a little more every time he did, leaning in a little closer, passing his fingers through his hair and over his lips, and kissing him, oh so many times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had just walked out of the bathroom after having changed in his pajamas and was heading towards his room when he was intercepted by a hand closing around his wrist. Bokuto started gently pulling him towards the other room with raised, silently questioning eyebrows. Akaashi followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Bokuto turned his head to look at him, still walking slowly towards the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t have sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth opened in a little “oh,” as his cheeks flushed a deep red. “That’s okay, I wasn’t— I didn’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not built for that, but I can—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no!” Bokuto quickly interrupted, waving a hand frantically in front of his face as if to shoo away the words. “I just wanted to fall asleep with you, ‘cause if you go in the other room I’ll miss you! And I’ll start thinking I imagined everything that happened today, or that it was just a dream, but if you’re there I’ll know it was real, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” he nodded to himself, then grabbed Akaashi from both arms and pulled him down with him on the bed, falling on the soft mattress in a pile of misplaced limbs and breathy laughs. Akaashi rolled to the side, settling down on one side of the bed and snaking his legs under the covers. Bokuto copied him, then shifted closer until he could turn to the side and rest his head on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was quick to rise on his elbow again and loudly sneeze in the other direction, away from Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you catching a cold?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m fine,” he replied, turning back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? You went around in shirt sleeves and it’s not full spring yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, are you worried about me, ‘Kashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed a little, “Embarrassing,” he said, reaching out a finger to poke at his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would that be embarrassing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because. Why would you worry about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“”What do you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I told you this morning that I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto smiled, quiet and wide. “Yeah, but I wanted to hear it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Do you forget about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a soft laugh. “No! Because it’s nice to hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Is that why you kept saying it today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! You can’t just say it once and be done with it!” he laughed again, and moved his head back down to rest against Akaashi’s shoulder once again. “It’s nice to hear it again ‘cause it’s like knowing you love me every single minute of every single day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto smiled, tilting his head slightly towards him. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I loved you every single minute of today and also the days before that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi looked at the way Bokuto seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open. He looked like he was getting distant. It was clear he was falling asleep. "But will you still love me tomorrow morning?" he asked, voice slowed down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised a hand to card his fingers through his hair, pushing them back from his forehead. "Of course I will."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto managed to get a little “Nice,” out before crashing, head lolling gently to the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi smiled, keeping twirling his fingers through Bokuto's hair for a few more moments before settling down as well and, after one last glance at his closed eyes and upturned lips, turned himself off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akaashi opened his eyes earlier than he was used to. He had been programming to wake up when he reached 100%, and that usually happened in the early morning. It was still dark outside, for what he could figure from the light that wasn't coming in from Bokuto's window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quick check confirmed that he was just short of 90. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then why had he— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A message window popped up in front of his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up with a jolt, quickly scrambling to check the status of his mission. Where before it had been "pending", for so long that he had almost forgot about it, now it read "Report back to the lab. Reset required." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, almost hoping it would go away if he wished it hard enough, but nothing changed. He could still see the message, white on black, and the little blinking line underneath, waiting for confirmation. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This operation will delete all existing data and restore the device to its factory default setting, proceed with rebooting? [YES/NO]</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi opened his eyes again. He could still see the text, but like this he could look at Bokuto too, who was snoring peacefully on his pillow, a serene smile on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why now? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he asked to himself and to the universe, </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn't you wait just one more day? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don't want to give this up already, please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out a hand to touch his cheek one last time, watching through the text as his own programming wrote the confirmation under the message, one slow excruciating letter at a time: </span>
  <em>
    <span>YES.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then everything went black again.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh oh. angst train incomiiing </p><p>(i hope I will manage to get the next chapter out sooner than I did this one, fingers crossed!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hearing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel like I should preface this with a little apology since it took me so long to update and also 'cause I'm not 100% satisfied with the chapter (part of the reason it took me this long is cause i wasn't feeling really into it t.t). There were a thousand more things i wanted to explore but i don't have the time nor the strenght to keep this little story going any further than where i took it. In the end I managed to push out a chapter i'm slightly proud of, way more than i was with the first draft, but still not on the same level as the others,,, in my opinion. I'm sorry. But i wanted to finish it. I don't like leaving stories half told, and i've done that already plenty of times. I really wanted to finish this one. SO here it is! I hope you enjoy the final rush, and that it will be worth it by the end :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bokuto woke up to an empty bed. He had to fight against the unwanted thought that he had dreamed about the whole previous day, forcing himself to notice that the sheets were pulled back on the other side, as if someone had moved them aside to get up, and that the pillow still bore the imprint of a head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was weird, he was usually the first to wake up, in every situation. Back at home with his parents, in the hotel during an away game, and here with Akaashi too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up and rubbed the last sleep out of his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard some shuffling further in the house and imagined Akaashi being up and about, maybe making breakfast for him. He smiled to himself. That would be nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushed out of bed, suddenly very keen on finding out exactly what Akaashi was doing, and if it was something nice for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found him standing in the living room, halfway to the door, his duffel bag slung on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?” he called, confused. He walked towards him, arms wide to get a hug. He looked like he was leaving, and Bokuto didn’t know for where, but he wasn’t going to go without a goodbye kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, turning towards him. Something was wrong. That wasn’t the usual tone in which Akaashi said his name. “Apologies,” he went on, and Bokuto stopped in his tracks, arms slowly lowering to his sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi?” he said again, feeling a bit like a broken record but too uncertain to care about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There has been a sudden change of plans,” Akaashi went on, and Bokuto realized that whoever was standing in front of him was not Akaashi at all. He looked like him, and even talked the same, with the same formality and big words and ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto-san</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s, but… it didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>sound</span>
  </em>
  <span> like him. It was cold and detached, not soft and caring like his Akaashi was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must be going,” not-Akaashi said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?” Bokuto asked, too dazed to ask any of the thousands of other questions that were swirling in his brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t say. Here,” he took a couple of steps forward, closing the distance between them, and handed him a white envelope. “I believe this belongs to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto took the letter from his hands and looked down at the elegantly written name on it. It indeed read ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto Koutarou</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the last thing he heard him say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Bokuto looked up again from the envelope the door was closing and not-Akaashi was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto looked back to the flat, moved without thinking towards the couch and let himself fall down on it. He looked down at the letter in his hands, which started to move on their own to open it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out came a page packed with the same neat hand writing of the envelope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It started with “Bokuto-san,” and then on the row below, “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned back, resting against the back of the couch for support, brought the letter up above his head and started to read. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto-san,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you’re reading this it means I’m gone. I probably had to reset, so I won’t remember anything about my months living here. Don’t worry about it, and don’t worry about me. I’m probably fine. I knew this would happen, sooner or later. I hope, if you’re reading this, that at least it was later. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have to apologize to you, because I didn’t tell you about the possibility sooner. I’m writing this and I hope a lot of time will have passed between now and when you’ll read it, but I know I still won’t have told you. Sorry about that. I trust you but this is… I fear it would worry you too much, and I’d rather spend more time with you pretending to be blissfully ignorant as well than having to worry every second about what might happen. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway. If I have rebooted it means I have to go back to the lab. I probably went already. I hope resetted me was smart enough to trust his own handwriting and that he followed the instructions I left for him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto-san, go into my room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bokuto got up and mindlessly walked towards the dark room. He turned on the light and went on reading.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There should be my computer on my desk. Turn it on.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went to the desk, found a pc with a note sticked on top of it, in the same hand. “Leave this here, you won’t need it.” He removed it and sticked it on the top of the table next to it, then opened it and pressed the start button. He moved his eyes back to the letter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I left some things for you on there. There are some documents, and a longer explanation of what is going on, if you want to read it. It’s long, be warned. If you don’t feel like reading it I’ll tell you everything once I see you again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But the important thing is another. Open the maps. I saved an itinerary that will take you to the lab, following the route I took coming here the first time. I hope I remembered it correctly, though I trust my memory card. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, be careful. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one must see you once you get there. No one must understand that you know the truth. Do whatever it takes to not get noticed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto-san... Come and get me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi Keiji was sitting in a bland room, empty except for a bare desk, the chair he was sitting in and the one on the other side of it. A woman called Yuriko, who was a doctor (the science kind, not the medic kind), was sitting in the latter, hands clasped on the table in front of her and a calm smile on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed to be waiting for something. He thought maybe she was waiting for him to say something, but remained silent anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end it was her who broke the silence with a sigh. "It seems the rebooting function works, at least."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," he replied, even if it hadn't sounded like a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you have any queries?" she asked, raising a hand as if they might be a physical thing she could accept on her palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What am I supposed to do now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since he had gotten to the lab the line in his coding that defined his mission had changed into ‘&gt;</span>
  <em>
    <span>MISSION: pending…</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," Yuriko replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi Keiji nodded. Sat still for a second and then added: "For what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have to make some improvements to your code, first of all, and then we'll see. Your little adventure in the world was a test run."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had already made some changes to his code, right away when he’d arrived, plugging him into a complicated machine and tapping away at a keyboard he couldn’t see. He didn’t know what she had done. He didn’t feel any different. "I understand," he said, and he did, even if he didn't remember said </span>
  <em>
    <span>adventure in the world</span>
  </em>
  <span> except the walk he had to take from the flat to the lab. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your ability to develop something akin to emotions was very interesting, even if a bit counterproductive," Yuriko went on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi inclined his head. This, he didn’t understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's the point of making a fake human if he ends up feeling exactly like one, right?" Yuriko went on, not really clarifying anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the sound of the door opening behind him. He didn't turn, electing to keep staring at Yuriko as she moved her gaze towards it and nodded. The door closed again. She got up from her seat and leaned on the desk with her hands for a second, "I have to go for a second, will you wait for me here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi nodded. "Of course."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited, for precisely 2 minutes and 27 seconds, before the door opened again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't turn to see who it was, assuming that it was going to be Yuriko, but heard a soft gasp before the sound of the door closing again slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't hear footsteps, and thought for a second that someone must have opened the door, realized they were in the wrong room, and closed it again. But he could hear breathing. Someone was still there in the room with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was his flatmate, Bokuto Koutarou. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Staring at him like he'd seen a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah-kashi?" he asked softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi straightened in his chair. "It's Akaashi," he corrected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doing here?" Akaashi asked, because his presence in the lab didn't make any sense. "Are you lost?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I…” he started, but stopped right away, looking conflicted, almost like he himself wasn’t sure of the reason of his presence there. “Don’t you know who I am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi looked at the young man standing there, still and slightly hunched for a second, before answering: “Of course I know who you are.” </span>
</p><p><span>He saw him perk up a little, as Akaashi went on: “You’re Bokuto Koutarou. You were my flatmate.” He slumped again, clearly not satisfied with his answer, and Akaashi thought ‘</span><em><span>oh no, I can’t let him be sad.</span></em><span>’</span> <span>He blinked at the thought, that didn’t seem to be coming from him. “You’re…” he started to say, and he didn’t really know what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth. “</span><em><span>My boyfriend</span></em><span>.” </span></p><p>
  <span>He blinked, and the thoughts were gone. Bokuto looked out of breath, like he’d just run a mile even if he’d been standing still. “Are you alright?” Akaashi asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi, you’re in there, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you mean— </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Oh, there it was again. Who was putting words in his mouth? Who was having thoughts parallel to his own? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How… what can I do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know what— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keep talking.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Now what exactly was going on here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>stop fighting me, please. let me out</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was talking?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm you</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flashes started to flood his vision, and he couldn't do anything else but watch what he concluded must be recordings of the time he spent amidst humans. The time he didn't remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he didn't know about it, there must have been a reason. He might not know what it was, but there </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be a reason if he didn’t remember any of it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed the images down, and forgot them again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto was shaking. he'd never felt more anxious in his life, not even before a big match. Then at least he was a positive anxiety. More like excitement. This was… bad. He was standing in front of Akaashi, who wasn't Akaashi, and who seemed to have gone in standby, if that was even something he could do. He was staring into the void, expression blank and completely still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Akashi?" he dared to call, softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi blinked, and turned to look at him. "I apologize, I got distracted," he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhm." He didn't know what to do. During that little glimpse of clarity he'd told him to talk, but he didn't know what to say. "Akashi," he began, walking closer and crouching in front of him. "I… if you're still in there somewhere, can you hear me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi looked at him blankly, blinking slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, listen, if you can hear me," he grabbed his hands, which at least got a reaction out of him, even if a small one, just a pair of raised eyebrows. He raised his hands to his lips and kissed the tip of his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could hear a faint whirring that hadn't been there before. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Akaashi said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let him out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little spark of hope set his chest on fire. He really was still in there. "Why not?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because. I have… orders. This is not in the orders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… is there something that specifically forbids you to do it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not-Akaashi blinked at him, and after a beat answered: “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then what is the problem?” he asked, squeezing his hands thigher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I let him out… Then I'll stop existing. I… I don't want that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." He hadn't considered… His Akaashi had been like a person, but that meant… this new Akaashi was a person too. And bringing back the old Akaashi would mean destroying the new one. Was it murder? Did the old Akaashi know this? “You’ll die?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto didn’t want to kill anyone. “I… I don’t know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to die for—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no!” He cut him off, “Of course not! I just… I just want my Akaashi back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause I love him.” he squeezed lightly on his hands, to get his point across more clearly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not-Akaashi lowered his eyes to their hands, frowning. He blinked a few times, then looked back up into Bokuto’s eyes. “I understand. He loves you too, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is unfortunate.” If Bokuto had mastered the art of understanding Akaashi’s face as he prided himself to have, he’d say he looked… </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I wish it had been me instead of him. I wish I had got to know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto could feel the familiar tingle in the back of his nose that meant he  was about to cry. He swallowed the knot in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I wish I’d known you too. You seem cool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not-Akaashi shook his head. “It’s alright. I’ve barely been alive anyway. He deserves to be out more than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay.” Not-Akaashi interrupted him. It wasn’t fair and Bokuto wanted to scream. “Don’t say anything more. I’ve heard you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he said again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not-Akaashi smiled, the same little smile Bokuto knew too well, and then the tears spilled fat and unstoppable down Bokuto’s cheeks. “I’m sorry too,” Not-Akaashi said, “Goodbye, Bokuto Koutarou. It was a pleasure to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto sniffed, trying to keep his nose from leaking all over their still joined hands. “You too, and… thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not-Akaashi bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment, and then, when he brought it up again, there was a different clarity in his eyes, and the smile on his lips was just a little bit wider, and his hands slipped out of Bokuto’s and grabbed his cheeks, bringing his face closer and smashing their mouths together with maybe a bit too much force. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto laughed against his lips, through the tears, and pulled back soon to look him in the eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Kashi?” he breathed out, throat still closed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Akaashi replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto threw his arms around his neck and squeezed him hard against his shoulder. “Oh God, you’re back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi chuckled. “I missed you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto could say nothing except repeat his name over and over again, tears still flowing down his eyes and into Akaashi’s shirt, even if now they were more from relief than guilt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for letting me hear you,” Akaashi said, barely a whisper breathed out against the hair above his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for hearing me,” Bokuto replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I’ll always hear you. I had a plan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew it would happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, didn’t you read my letter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made a secret backup, hidden from the rebooting function. And I coded it to be accessible with you present. You’re like… the key.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” Bokuto said, and pulled back a little, just enough to be able to look at his face. “Now can we go home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back a little more, shoulders tight with unease. “But?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Buts </span>
  </em>
  <span>were never good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to go alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one can see you, Bokuto-san. If they do you’ll never be able to be at peace again. You won’t be able to become… famous. They’ll always be looking for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t leave you here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, grabbing his cheeks. “Trust me. If we walk out of here together they’ll spot you. If you go alone no one will look at you. Just like when you walked in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto had to admit that walking in had been extremely easy, for a secret lab. People just seemed to assume he worked there, not sparing him half a glance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll… you’ll be okay? What if they reset you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to leave you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one will reset me again, no one will know I’m back. I’ll pretend to be resetted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right behind you, and it’ll all be okay, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They won’t find out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“120%”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto smiled, and dried his eyes with his sleeve. “Alright. I trust you. Where are we meeting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home,” Akaashi said. “It’s far enough, we’ll have time to make a plan from there before they realize I’m gone and come looking for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto nodded. He stood up, leaving a goodbye kiss on his nose as he went up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you, then,” Akaashi said, looking up at him, one hand slightly raised as if he was unconsciously trying to stop him, to keep him close just a little longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto smiled, caught his hand and lightly kissed his fingertips. “Love you,” he said, as a goodbye, and with that he turned, walked out of the door and let it fall closed behind him, and he made his way through the bare corridors faking a confidence in knowing where he was going until he found the sign that pointed to the exit and he was out in the open air again and he started running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi waited. He waited for the few minutes he knew it would take Bokuto to reach the exit and then he waited a few more. Then he got up, pushed the chair close to the desk, and took the few steps that separated him from the door. He was already reaching out with a hand, ready to grip the handle and make his way to freedom, when it twisted on its own, and the door opened, and there was Yuriko on the other side of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she said, surprised to see him up and about and not seated where she had told him to stay. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was… coming to open the door for you,” Akaashi said, trying to keep his voice steady and flat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know I was coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard your footsteps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She came all the way into the room and shut the door behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi stood there, clasping his hands behind his back to look as composed as he could, and also hide the fact that they were probably shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you to stay on the chair,” she commented, making her way slowly towards the desk without tearing her eyes off of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me to wait here, the way in which I was to wait wasn’t specified.” It was true, he knew. But he also knew human memory wasn’t as reliable as his, and Yuriko could remember things differently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” was all she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I ask a question?” he said, not moving from his stading position near the door, just in case he had to make a run for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” the doctor said, with a slight gesture of her hand to show that he could go on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you change something in my coding already?” He didn’t remember clearly the time he’d been rebooted. It felt all like a dream. But he felt like something was off, and he couldn’t put his fingers on what it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find something?” she asked, instead of answering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not an answer to my question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, sorry. I did change something. Nothing big. It comes with the rebooting. Were the old version of you to resurface again for some reason, shutting off will automatically start the rebooting process. It’s a failsafe. Just in case, you understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” he replied. This was news, but he had a feeling she had tampered with something important like that, he just could figure out where it was or how to change it back. “Where is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuriko smiled, a thin lipped, humorless smile, that hid a sudden understanding of the situation. “Can’t find it, Akaashi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a shaky breath, and tilted his head. No point in pretending anymore. She knew. “Where did you put it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t find it. Just like I couldn’t find your little secret backup. Good job about that, by the way, I’m impressed. I shouldn’t have taught you how to code.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raised her eyebrows. “Hey, it’s only fair I hide something from you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he asked, “Why do all of this?” he said, releasing his hands to point at the whole room, at Yuriko, at himself. “Why me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking why we made you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I don’t get it. You could get in trouble with the law and for what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I say </span>
  <em>
    <span>science </span>
  </em>
  <span>will you be satisfied?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I say the government is asking us to work on androids?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soldiers. What else. The whole point of it is make soldiers who are not human, who can fight our wars for us without us feeling guilty about the physical toll of wars. Without having lives on our conscience. You’re supposed to not feel emotions because you’re not supposed to be human. If you end up being just like humans… what’s the point of all of this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head at the irony, “Well, if you wanted me to not be human maybe you should have thought twice before sending me to live with the most human person on the whole planet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuriko chuckled, and nodded to herself. “It was just a test run. We wanted to see how you worked in a real world environment. You’re not our soldier, Akaashi. You’re the first trial.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I’m… useless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are quite faulty. Not acting at all like we planned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to… terminate me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends,” she said, widening her hands on the desk. “Can you make yourself useful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you let me go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, then turned serious again. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your program has it’s faults, but it’s still a pretty good base. You’re useless as a soldier, but not useless as a… copy sheet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to make others like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than you, hopefully.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to… No. You can’t do that. What if you make mistakes again? What if you make another like me? Will you kill them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not ethical. The laws are there for a reason, you can’t start making people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not. Hopefully we won’t repeat the same mistakes, like I said. You’re faulty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. What if I help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t reboot me again. Don’t copy my code while I’m shut down. I’ll work here, I’ll help you write a code that works. And you won’t build another android until I say you can. Until I’m sure you won’t give them self-consciousness by accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuriko smiled, confused. “Why are you making this proposal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have time to overthrow the whole laboratory. I wouldn’t even know where to start and I’m alone, you’re many. This is more in my reach. I’ll keep an eye on you. And also I want something in exchange for my help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll let me go home everyday and you won’t touch Bokuto Koutarou. You’ll let him be, he doesn’t know anything and even if he did he would never tell, because of me. I can vouch for him. But you won’t lay a finger on him. He can go on live his life and become a professional volleyball player and you will never, ever, interfere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All these demands in exchange for something I could easily take away from you without asking?” she said, cheeky grin back in place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think I’ll accept?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told Bokuto to call the police if I wasn’t back this evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuriko’s grin dropped and she raised an eyebrow. “We work for the government, you can’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The police doesn’t know that. The law is the law, and you’re breaking it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t— that’s risky. I could dispatch someone to terminate him before evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you won’t. You don’t want to kill people, do you? You would have already killed me. Let me work with you. Let me go home. Let me live. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are truly a wonder…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. It’s all your doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… I— I’m sorry about that rebooting bug. I’m not sure I can take it out, but I can try, if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure I trust you to try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair. If you keep looking you’ll find it. I’m sure you will. Plus with your back up it won’t take long for you to come back, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right… It’s just annoying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuriko-san.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walking out the lab felt like what Akaashi imagined removing a plaster might feel like. It was liberating to feel the wind against his hands again, feel it grip at his clothes and push and pull them left and right, blowing strands of his hair in his face. He looked up at the sun and laughed, then back down at the ground. He started walking, one step at a time, each one faster than the one that came before, anxious to be back home as soon as possible, until he was running and there was nothing holding him back but the sporadic gust of wind that blew in his opposite direction. But he couldn’t complain about that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knocked on the door once. Twice. He was about to raise his fist again when the door opened and in a flurry Bokuto was hoisting him up in his arms and spinning back into the flat, laughing while pressing his face into his chest. Akaashi held tight to his shoulders, and laughed as well, cause there was nothing else he felt like doing but laughing, and laughing, until there was no air left to breathe, until there was no sun in the sky, until Bokuto stopped laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he told him, once he’d put him down, fingers roaming the sides of his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Akaashi replied, raising his hands to push his fingers into Bokuto’s hair. “I’m home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>01100010 01101111 01101011 01110101 01100001 01101011 01100001  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~ ~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the few days that followed Akaashi learned a few things:</span>
</p><ol>
<li><span>the bug that had been embedded in his coding was well hidden, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, find it and delete it. But he kept searching. </span></li>
<li><span>it made it so that whenever he switched off, it equated to a reboot. Waking up next to Bokuto meant that it only took him less than an hour to go through his secret backup and restore his memory files with the gentle guide of his voice. It was a bit like getting to know him again and again everyday, as he browsed through the files and slowly regained consciousness.</span></li>
<li><span>the rebooted version of himself seemed to like Bokuto just as much as he did, every single time.</span></li>
<li><span>if Bokuto was quick enough he could start coming back before his rebooted self started to gain consciousness. It was the best course. The few times he’d woken while Bokuto was still asleep it got bothersome. It wasn’t easy to convince a conscious being to give up his just acquired life for the sake of two strangers. But it just happened a few times, and Bokuto could be extremely convincing to Akaashi, no matter what version of him he was or how much he remembered about his life.</span></li>
</ol><p>
  <span>As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, he found he actually liked the work he was doing at the lab. It wasn’t just because he knew he was preventing another like him to exist and subsequently suffer all he had to go through, but also because he was good at it. He liked doing things that felt like he was designed to do. He liked having a purpose, and a useful one too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And life went on. Bokuto went to class. He failed some exams. He passed most. He played volleyball. He got scouted, and started playing for the Black Jackals. Akaashi went to see his games, met some his friends, said goodbye to others as they moved to play around the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were still living together, but had changed flat sometime that year. Bokuto wanted a bigger bathroom, and a big kitchen with an actual table in there, and a room with a big enough bed to fit both of them comfortably. He said he was becoming famous so he was going to be very rich soon and could afford it, but Akaashi still paid for half of it with the money he’d stacked from his paychecks from the lab, and considering Bokuto didn’t allow him to pay for food since he didn’t eat any he had plenty of money himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyday Bokuto went to practice and Akaashi went to work in the lab. In the evening they made dinner, Akaashi watched Bokuto eat and retell the events of his day. Then they washed the dishes and Akaashi told about his. They sat on the couch, watching some movie or trash program, Bokuto would try not to fall asleep there, failed almost everytime. Then they’d go to sleep. It was routinely. comfortable. Perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t wish for anything else. He had a purpose, with his work. And he had Bokuto. Wonderful, extraordinary Bokuto. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you," he told him, while they settled down in bed for the night, as he did everyday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto glanced up, moving slightly so that his chin was resting on Akaashi's chest. "Will you still love me tomorrow morning?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Akaashi answered truthfully. "But I'll love you tomorrow night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it wasn't ideal, but it was okay. He will wake up a blank slate but he'll get all his data back with just a quick upload, and then it would only take him around an hour to go through all of it, and then he'll be as good as new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I will," Bokuto said, somewhat childishly and stubbornly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t ideal, but he had grown to like the routine of it as well, of watching his memories everyday, of redescovering what made him fall for the man in his arms, again and again. It wasn’t all that bad. And he still looked for the bug, in the hopes to one day find it and finally delete it for good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll still love you tomorrow morning,” Bokuto replied, “Even when you don't know who I am, I'll still love you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised his hands to Bokuto's cheeks. "I very well hope so."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto laughed, and Akaashi moved his hands to card his fingers through his hair, pushing them back and reveling in the sight of his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's wasn't ideal, but he got to fall in love with Bokuto Koutarou every single day, and if you asked him that was the best thing anyone could ever wish for. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed my little story! :D If you did please consider leaving kudos or a comment, it's really appreciated 💕</p><p>If you want to come talk to me about haikyuu or literally anything else you can find me on tumblr @dr-awkward221b (personal/writing) or @m-art-i (art in general) or on instagram and twitter @m_art_i_</p></blockquote></div></div>
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